Chapter Thirteen

James sleeps poorly. He wakes often, to jabs of rock shards and his own nightmares and, at one point, to a flurry of whispered voices. James lies as still as he can, trying to make out the voices. The first speaker is Andre, the elderly priest whom James had talked with back on the Ariadne.

"It was no accident," the old man is saying, his voice an urgent hiss. "She looked straight at him, and I felt it, right then, the look on her face chilled me. He had his back turned, he was looking for something in the rock, and she punched the drill right through his arm. It was calculated, Keith. Deliberate."

"This is a very serious thing ye'r talkin about, Andre." It's McCormick talking now, hushed and cautious.

"You think I don't know that, Keith? You think I can't see what's right in front of me, after all this time?"

"No, no." There's a pause, and a heavy sigh. "I trust ye, of course I do. But there's no way of proving it. Why would Tyler want to hurt Rogers, anyway?"

"It's the captain, Keith! I've been listening, hearing things I wasn't meant to. She's the one running this operation, Tyler is. She's got Sawyer in the palm of her hand."

"Alright, that's a bit–"

"Listen. It turns out this entire mining outfit, the ship, the fuel, everything, it's all funded by the Blue Suns! Sawyer is their puppet, Keith, and Tyler is one of their own."

There's a pause, and James strains to hear McCormick's voice. When he speaks again it's very soft, almost inaudible, and each word is drawn out carefully. "Let me get this straight, Andre. Ye're telling me that Jocelyn Tyler, our robotics expert, is actually a member of th' Blue Suns, one of th' galaxy's most dangerous organized crime outfits. That's what ye'r tellin' me."

"It all makes perfect sense, Keith! They must have sent her to keep tabs on Sawyer, watch their investment. Gangs like the Suns do this all the time, it's like hiring commision workers, except they give you almost nothing and they can kill you if they don't like you."

"So you think they don't like Rogers."

Andre chuckles dryly. "Well, few enough do, but I doubt it's personal. He's the first mate, likely this was a way to threaten Sawyer. He must not be cooperating. I heard her, talking to him on the comm link a few hours ago. She shut it off when she saw me watching, but I did catch some of it. It sounded like threats to me."

"Alright, this has gone far enough." McCormick's voice is firmer now, decisive. "I'm calling an end t' this."

"Thank you, Keith, I knew you'd–"

"To this, Andre. This conversation. None o' this was ever spoken, ye understand me?"

"But, I just told you–"

"Not another word. We have two weeks of work left down here, and I'm not having a bloody mutiny. It'd be havoc, and who knows who'd get out alive."

"But she's working for the Blue Suns, Keith."

"I can live with that, even supposing it's true. Oh don't look so shocked, think about it! What bloody difference does it make? Stay out of her way, do your job, sleep with an eye open if it makes ye feel better. Fact of the matter is that she's the only one here who knows how to operate the mech, and we need her. I'm here to dig up the bloody rocks and get paid, and as long as I can do that, I don't give a damn who commissioned the trip. Blue Suns, Alliance, even the bloody Council, they're all crooks. It makes no difference."

There's a steely silence, and when Andre speaks again there's thinly contained anger in his voice. "Fine, Keith. If you won't do anything, so be it."

"If ye have any sense, ye won't either," replies McCormick. "If our boss decides to cut his losses and run, we're all as good as dead here. If ye're so set on being a martyr, think o' the kids. Think o' Anderson. The sulky bastard makes me want to kick 'im half the time, but who knows, he might learn something from this. Maybe it'll change his life for the better. And James. There's somethin' a little funny about 'im, he thinks a little too much, but he's got a good heart. He's got his whole life ahead of him, the other one, too. Ye can't bury them here jus' for th' sake of two jaded old men and their honor. An' really, Andre, if ye think there's any honor in this job, ye should go back to bein' a preacher. At least closin' yer eyes pays in that line o' work."

Silence closes back in on the little cave and James lies with his eyes wide open and his head spinning.

…

Morning comes more or less by consensus. Once a majority of the crew is upright and grumbling, the remainder is roused and preparations are made for another day of work. Drills are strapped to backs, helmet seals are checked and rechecked, rations and water are packed away. Finally McCormick looks down at Rogers. The first mate has managed to sleep through the night and he sleeps still, oblivious to his injury. "I suppose we'd better wake him," says McCormick, pulling a face. "We'll have to leave 'im here, of course, but I don't want 'im wakin' up on his own while we're gone. No, let's do it now. Sedative should be worn off."

McCormick kneels and begins gently shaking Rogers as the crew looks on. It takes several minutes of coaxing, but eventually Rogers stirs and his eyelids begin to flutter. "Mornin' to ye, matey," says McCormick gently. "Ye've had an accident, Rogers, and we patched ye up. Take it easy for a while."

The man's eyes open fully, and he looks around, dazed. Then the expression on his face changes, and his eyes fall to his right side. Rogers's eyes bulge, his left hand shooting to his right shoulder. "What did you do …"

McCormick stands up hurriedly, taking a step back. "Oh lord," he murmurs. "Here it comes."

Rogers is staring at the bandaged stump. Slowly he looks up at McCormick, his face a rictus of horror and revulsion. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Look," says McCormick, raising his hands. "You were hurt real bad, Geoff. There was no saving it. We did what we could …"

"Oh Jesus, what did you bastards do to me?" screams Rogers. "Where is my fucking arm?!"

Over there wrapped in shrink foil and stuffed in a spare ore crate, thinks James, but he realizes that this might not be the answer Rogers is looking for.

"I understand that ye're upset," soothes McCormick, unofficial mediator for the group. "It's very … understandable. We're gonna get ye to a hospital as soon as we can. For now we're gonna let ye rest here while we carry on with th' work."

Rogers collapses back onto his pallet. "Oh god," he sobs. "Oh god, it's gone, oh Jesus, they just cut it off."

McCormick scratches the back of his head, looking away awkwardly. "Yes, well, aye, it is. Uh, we'll be on our way now. If ye'r needin' anything, just say the word, we'll be in contact with ye over the commlink. Someone'll be by every hour or so t' check on ye."

Rogers doesn't seem to hear him. He curls himself into a ball, moaning wordlessly to himself and rocking gently back and forth.

McCormick looks down at him, biting his lip. "Right. Well, the sooner we get started, th' sooner we finish. Somebody get him a blanket, do we have a blanket? Blankets are good for shock." He turns away, leaving Rogers to his misery. "Okay! Enough sitting about, lads, we have rocks to crack!"

James takes a last look down at the trembling Rogers, then he bites his lip, shoves down his pity, and pushes his helmet down over his head. The miners are lining up at the edge of the flexible envelope, passing through the miniature airlock one by one. James takes his place in line as McCormick's voice buzzes over the public comm channel. "Th' blasting team's gonna need another hand today. James, you'll come with us. Zael, Anderson, head back up the tunnel and finish off th' veins we started yesterday. I'm going back to th' crater to tell Sawyer what happened. Should o' done it yesterday, but it slipped my mind. Tyler, Andre, James, wait fer me at th' mech. I'll be back down shortly."

James steps into the chamber of translucent plastic and waits as the opening seals behind him. The tiny motor in the pressurization system whines, then the light turns green and James steps out into the tunnel.

Most of the crew is already outside. Jocelyn Tyler give James a chilly nod, then she turns and strides away down the tunnel. James follows, flicking his headlamp on. Another light turns on behind him and he looks over his shoulder to see Andre trailing a few yards behind. James thinks back to the overheard conversation of the night before and an uneasy feeling settles in his stomach.

As the lights of their camp grow farther and farther away the darkness becomes complete, an almost physical blackness that seems to press in against James's arms and legs like liquid. His breathing suddenly seems loud and echoing, the only sound inside his helmet, and he swings his light back and forth over the jagged ground that threatens to trip him up with every step. Jocelyn issues a clipped command to switch to infrared, and after a moment of fumbling with lamp and visor controls, the wavering spotlights vanish and the tunnel appears bathed in a hellish, grainy red light. If the view is clearer, it's no more comforting. James looks up and around at the shards of stone closing in all around, trying not to imagine that they are marching into a mouth of jagged teeth.

When they reach the blood stains, the chill hanging over the group multiplies tenfold. James tries not to look down at what's caked all over the floor of the tunnel, but it's either watch the ground or trip, and soon images of Rogers's arm come floating up before his eyes. James shakes his head hard, trying to regain his senses, but the horror of the situation is suddenly overwhelming. Down in this jagged, bloodsoaked tunnel lit only by flickering red light, far beneath the scorched, burning ground, it's all too much. James fights to control his breathing as he feels claustrophobia rising inside him. Come on, just do the work. Just get the job done, he repeats to himself, trying to drown out the voice in his head that's screaming at him to get out of this hellish place. Just do the work. You've got to finish what you started.

A hand settles firmly on his shoulder. "I'm here, James," says Andre's voice. James turns, immensely relieved by the friendly touch, and looks down at the old man's visor. The reflective coating blocks out Andre's features, but over the crackling commlink the old man's voice is grim. "Don't worry, we're on a private frequency. She can't hear us."

James's eyes dart to Jocelyn, but she's still making her way down the tunnel, seemingly oblivious to their conversation. "What's going on?" James whispers, feeling stupid for whispering inside his helmet but at the same time unable to stop himself.

"It's Tyler," says Andre, tightening his grip on James's shoulder. "She's the one who hurt Rogers, and it wasn't an accident. She's no miner, either; she's a Blue Suns operative."

"You're sure?" asks James, feigning surprise. Probably better to pretend I wasn't listening in last night.

"Positive. I'm going to confront her before McCormick gets back, and I want you to stay well out of the way. The cave where we left the mech is just around the bend there. You stay here, and at the first sign of trouble you head straight back to up the tunnel and find McCormick."

"What about you?" asks James, casting another nervous glance at Jocelyn. The woman is still picking her way through the broken stone, and James watches as she disappears around the corner. The feeling of dread is coming back and James finds himself wishing McCormick would come back. He barely knows the man, but there's something reassuring about his friendly, boisterous voice and attitude of easy command. There's another face that James would much rather see, but he pushes it down, his stomach twisting bitterly.

"I'll take the risk," says Andre. "It's not safe for you to be down here with her. There's no telling who she'll hurt next. No, we need her gone, far away. I think if I blow her cover it'll scare her off, but I want you back here just in case it goes wrong. Are you with me?"

James nods. "Alright." What else can I say?

Andre gives his shoulder one last squeeze, then he leaves James and makes his way down the tunnel and around the bend. James stands there for a moment, listening to the sound of his own breathing, until the foreboding silence of the tunnel gets the better of his resolve and he sets off after the old man.

The cavern up ahead is lit by a pale blue light, refreshing as cold water after the hellish glow of the infrared, but James stays back in the shadows, switching off his lamp and ducking down behind a pillar of rock. The light is coming from the circular eye and chest of the modified YMIR mech the miners call Elmer. Its hulking, hunchbacked form squats motionlessly at the far end of the chamber. James notes the splash of crimson that coats the mech's drill arm, making the appendage look like some hideous appliance of torture.

Andre has his back to James, and across the cavern from him stands Jocelyn Tyler, her arms crossed and her stance neutral. The two look as if they're locked in a mental battle, staring each-other down silently, but James realizes that they must be using a private comm channel, muting their conversation for the rest of the crew. James can't hear the words passing between them, but he can see Andre becoming more and more agitated, his hands clenching into fists and his arms shaking at his sides. Jocelyn remains impassive, her body language as blank as the reflective visor hiding her face. James's eyes flick back and forth between the two of them, wondering if he should slip away and call for help. Andre is slight and thin and, James realizes, a half a foot shorter than Jocelyn. If a fight should start James isn't sure which way it would go, and the woman's calm is unsettling him. She looks awfully sure of herself for someone being accused of spying for a crime gang.

Suddenly a voice breaks through the silence, and without any visual cues it takes James a moment to recognize it as Jocelyn's. "Let him hear. You dragged him into this, and I want him to know whose fault it is."

"James has nothing to do with this," says Andre, his voice shaking with anger. "I sent him back up the tunnel to get the others. By now he and McCormick should be halfway here."

"You say you sent him back?" says Jocelyn, tilting her head, and suddenly James is sure she's staring straight at him. Impossible, there's no way she could have seen me.

"That's right," spits Andre, his fists tightening. "So do what you want to me. I don't care. They'll find you this time though, and you won't get the chance to hurt anyone else."

Jocelyn laughs this time, a soft, lilting sound that is as pretty as it is chilling. "So eager to be the martyr, old man. You'd enjoy it, wouldn't you? You and your masochist god." She laughs again, her visor still pointed directly at James's hiding spot.

"It's not about me," yells Andre. "It's about James and Anderson! It's about Rogers, and Neil, and—"

"Enough." The command comes with such force that it stops Andre cold. The laughter is gone from Jocelyn's voice. "Today is not your day, old man, because your friend is still here."

"No!" Andre wheels around, searching the darkness behind him. "No, I told him to go back!"

"Your friend has a lot to learn about obedience, then. Come out, James," she says, raising her voice slightly. "Or I'll kill the old man."

James tenses, his eyes going wide. There's no way she can see me. She's bluffing.

"No, James!" shouts Andre, waving his hands at the darkness but clearly unable to locate him. "Get out of here! Run, go get Keith and the others!"

"Oh, they'll be here soon enough. This entire mission was a complete loss. We're pulling the plug on Sawyer. His incompetence has wasted the Blue Suns' time and resources for the last time. Come out, James. Your suit has a tracker in it, I am perfectly aware that you are hiding there in the shadows."

James takes a deep breath and steps into the light. "James. ..." Says Andre, and the old man sounds so defeated that James has to look away, resting his gaze instead on the blank mirror of Jocelyn's visor.

"You can't kill all of us," says James, finding his mouth uncomfortably dry. "Not alone, even with the mech. They'll stop you."

"Of course," agrees Jocelyn. "That would be unreasonable. Most of the crew will be free to go after we return to Omega. Sawyer is another matter. The Blue Suns have funded many of his little excursions, and he's going to have to make up the debt one way or another." Her voice leaves little doubt as to what the other way might be.

"They'll never let you do this,"says Andre desperately. "Keith won't let it happen, he's loyal to Sawyer."

Jocelyn laughs, and just like the first time, James feels chills run down his back. "Are you really so naive, old man? Most of the crew know. Keith McCormick is loyal to his own bank account, just like the rest of them. You honestly think nobody knew where the money was coming from? They knew. But unlike you, they knew better than to bite the hand that fed them. It was a shame about Rogers, but he was useless anyway and Sawyer needed reminding of who's in charge here. A shame about James, too, but sometimes that's the cost of doing business, and I doubt he'll be missed. No offense, James."

James blinks. Oh.

Andre takes another second to catch on, then he explodes, jumping in front of James as if to shield him with his frail body. "No! You can't! No, please, he's done nothing! It was me, take-"

"No." Jocelyn's voice is stony. "You don't fuck with the Blue Suns, Andre. I won't risk you trying to stir up the crew. The return voyage needs to go smoothly, and I need to make it back without anyone trying to stab me in the back. That means your mouth needs to stay shut."

"It will, I swear," pleads the old man, holding out his hands entreatingly. "I won't say a word."

"I know you won't," says Jocelyn, and suddenly a tiny pistol is grasped snuggly in her right hand. "Because I'm going to show you what happens when you do." She levels the gun at James.

So this is how it ends, thinks James numbly. Why am I so … unsurprised? James Mikaelson, entered into the world more or less by accident, departed senselessly after accomplishing nothing much. Survived by no-one, remembered for less than a week. He contemplates the gun barrel staring him in the face for a moment, paying little attention to the desperation of the old man beside him. Is that really all I've got? It's so … It's so …

James frowns, scrunching his eyebrows together. It's so completely shitty. Was I really happy with it? With a pang of guilt he recalls the week of terrifying, electric adventure he spent with Kal'Reegar, dodging bullets and fighting insane scientists, and then the even more terrifying week that followed, after the guns had cooled and he and Kal were alone on their own, lost without a map. As if it was really that hard. As if we needed a book on how to be together. I spent so much time thinking about it, scared myself so much that I was actually willing to give him up. But it was always so simple.

James suddenly sees himself as if from very far away, a figure standing in a dark cave at the bottom of the world. It's sunny somewhere up above, he thinks sadly. There's a part of this world somewhere that isn't ruined. It's green and sunny up there. There's light and wind and animals. I wish I were there.

But I came down here instead, into this awful place I don't want to be. And I left behind Kal, even though I wanted him more than anything in the galaxy. And now somebody's going to shoot me, and I'm going to let them, and then I'll be dead and it will all be over. A lifetime of giving in.

And then something, somewhere inside of James switches, like an antique light-switch flicking itself on with a tiny, inaudible click.

James blinks again. "No," he says. The gun fires.

James shakes his head. He feels as if he's waking from a drowsy half-sleep. Somewhere to his right Andre is crying, a wailing, piteous noise that James is only partly aware of.

Jocelyn is looking at him, her blank visor betraying no emotion. She squeezes the trigger again and the pistol gives a dry crack, then another.

Annoyance is building inside of James, annoyance and something else, something very unfamiliar. Anger? James feels a rush of heat as he realizes he's angry, truly furious, although at what he's not sure. Something is tickling him. He looks down and sees three silvery balls, like shiny metal bees, hovering in the air an inch from his chest. The air around them seems distorted, swimming with a purplish heat-haze.

Jocelyn is looking at his chest, too. She looks back up at James's face, and when she speaks her voice carries a hint of fear. "You didn't tell us."

Tell you what? thinks James, but his head is still full of the sleepy feeling and he can't seem to get the words out. Beside him Andre is crying out again, but when James looks down the old man's tearful eyes are raised upward, his hands clasped, and a brilliant smile is stretched across his face. "God is good," he says over and over again. "God is good."

James raises his head slowly, feeling a buzzing resistance in the air, as if he were trying to push two positive magnets together. When he looks up and catches the reflection in Jocelyn's visor, it takes him a second to realize that what he's looking at is him. The figure in the reflection is glowing a deep, vibrant indigo, and the air around him shimmers with ghostly purple light. The scene is frozen, almost comical, with Andre praying and laughing at the same time, Jocelyn holding stock still, staring at James, and James standing in the middle of the light storm, listening to the pounding of his heart. Something wet runs down his upper lip and he tastes blood.

And then, just as quickly as it began, the spell shatters and the cavern is thrown into pandemonium. Something hits James from behind, bowling him over, and someone is screaming at Jocelyn to drop her weapon now, and as the purple light recedes James feels his ears pop and everything is fading away. …