“If I’d been quicker,” said Kaydin, “I could have distracted the sentinels from even attacking you. But I haven’t fought them in awhile.”
“None of us have lately,” said Ry. “but it isn’t easy to get out of the system without a scratch.”
“And yet you avoided fatal injury,” said Kaydin, “as if you knew where the sentinel would attack.” The worker realized he had dodged the lizard much like he had evaded the brunt of Director Dimah’s blow. He had seen the claw coming before it actually did.
Feeling a hand lightly squeeze his shoulder, the worker noticed Ry had held it even as the worker had turned to meet the newcomers. “We’ll have to get you bandaged,” said Ry, eyeing the worker’s bloodied face. Maryn took this as a cue, passing through the room to a hallway beyond.
“Why don’t we sit a moment,” said Ry. He pulled the worker kindly toward the obsidian table, offered him stool. He started to notice the gray lines etched into the smooth surface, but the others joining him drew his attention, and he took a moment to study them: Kaydin, the lost worker; Gara, the taller partner-in-rescuing; Maryn, light hair like the turma vine, small nose, a hopeful smile; and Bel, brown hair on her bare shoulders. She had said little, but now hugged Kaydin from behind before sitting. Ry, their apparent leader, now spoke.
“This is Haven,” said Ry, gesturing around the table and the small cavern. “We help people like you, the curious and the rebellious, survive in this underground city outside the established system of the Rahz.”
“How’d you make this place?”
“With tools.” He nodded to Gara, who produced a stone hammer. Then he drew the worker’s eyes. “And anger.”
Maryn returned. “You and your anger,” said Maryn, laughing lightly. She brought out a cloth which stung to the touch. Her lips formed a frown. “Stitches, Ry.”
“Just wrap him up for now. You and Mav can fix him up in the morning.”
Mav, the man with the goatee, smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ve stitched people up before.”
“What do you mean fix me up?” asked the worker to Ry, trying to touch his cuts but finding them wrapped by a cloth. Maryn continued circling his head and face with the bandage, eventually covering his right eye.
“It’s time to rest, son,” said Ry. “Answers are coming.”
Maryn led the worker by the arm out the main room along a roughly carved corridor. Vines ran along the walls here, too. A red pitcher plant the size of his fist waited, idly, until a glowfly deigned to snatch its nectar. It pounced and the glowfly was reduced to a droning like a muffled snore. Maryn saw him eyeing them.
“Each of us has added our own touches over the years.”
“What is a year?”
“A long time.” She paused. “Well, not that long. About three hundred of your shifts, the time between tolls. But it goes fast. Ry used to say time flies."
"And what does he say now?"
"I think he wishes it would go a little faster."
After a short walk, Maryn pulled him into a small, dark room, only lit by the corridor. She led him gently to an alcove. “This is your place to sleep,” her smile just visible in the dim, orange light. A small lizard scampered into a crevice.
“Thank you,” said the worker, frowning and hoping there were no more of the critters. “What’s this?”
“A mat for your head. I weaved it myself.”
“From?”
“From the inner workings of the plants, of course. That's how I made all our clothing. We don't have the lizard skins that you workers have.” She was whispering, but took pleasure in his not knowing. The worker hadn't considered his attire was woven with the insides of the small, shifty creatures.
This is…nice, he thought, trying the headrest. Not enough to make him stay, no matter what this Ry had said. Director Dimah won't let me stay, anyway.
“There’s even a compartment for you, there.” Maryn smiled when he again frowned his ignorance. “Once we get to turma allocations, you can store it there. Now you should sleep. You’ve had enough excitement for one day--or shift--I should think.”
It took all of his focus not to check his pocket to ensure he still had the turma bulb. The pain still shot through his face if he moved too much, so he settled in as best he could. He couldn’t think of anything else to do as his eyes closed except wonder if he would wake up with memories of all that had so recently come to pass.
Bel excused herself for the evening, and Kaydin remained with Gara, Mav, and Ry.
“Are you guys alright?” said Ry.
“Still have my nose,” said Gara, touching his bent nose.
“Still have all nine,” said Kaydin, wiggling his fingers.
“Good here,” said Mav.
“I’m interested in seeing the rescue,” said Ry.
“I’m low,” said Kaydin, turning an eye to Mav.
Mav sighed, but went for his cloak’s pockets. He brought out a handful of obsidian vials. “This is into my allocation, now,” he said, raising a finger.
“It’s for the good of us all,” said Ry.
Mav nodded. “Of course. Kaydin will tell us what he sees. Two to start with, right?”
Kaydin uncapped and downed two vials. He felt the turma in his chest. Reaching for it, he focused on the moment he wanted to begin reviewing the Retained memory, then lit Reflect.
Kaydin’s attention shifted to the scene. From his post on the eastern wall, Kaydin watched the adolescent boy walk onto the chasm bridge. He checked that his gauntlet was tight on his wrist. Then he felt for the turma inside his chest. He had just downed two large vials. Ten doses on top of the three he had taken earlier: one to Heighten senses and two for Retain. He would need ten more if things got serious.
He shuffled onto the ledge, shutting the door on the crawlspace behind him. He listened for movement with Heightened hearing. Anything. A hiss, or the scrape of lizard feet against stone. Even the buzz of a glowfly, which could signal a retreat from a sentinel's passing.
As the boy reached the halfway point of the bridge, Kaydin saw the beasts: one on the nearside, one on the far. They had crawled from below the bridge. Kaydin reached for the turma, brought it into his head and all the way to the front.
Now things were serious: he activated Predict. Shadow images of the two lizards and the boy swirled around them. These were the most likely combinations of movements given the memories of previous sentinel battles he had Amplified.
Silently, Kaydin hung, then dropped from above the Growing Room One entrance to the landing. The stairs, then the walkway, then the bridge. He looked out. The great lizards moved in on the boy as he backpedaled.
Kaydin took the stairs three at a time, feet landing expertly. He could run from here to the bridge in seconds. The shadow images converged on the boy, and Kaydin broke into a run. Upon reaching the bridge, he skipped the short stair with a leap. The sentinel lunged for the boy’s face, but he ducked, mostly avoiding the monster.
Kaydin met the second sentinel as it lunged for the boy, his gauntlet striking it on the unprotected underside of its jaw.
The second sentinel, which had just swiped the boy, turned. Kaydin watched the boy’s shadow images teetering off-balance toward the edge of the bridge. In that moment, the sentinel’s shadows shifted their attention to Kaydin. He focused, collapsing the shadow images from four to two, one of which began taking steps toward Kaydin, the other of which prepared a lunging jump.
Either