There were no windows inside the tower room, but the interior green quartz floor, walls, and ceiling glowed gently, just as the outside walls did at night. As far as anyone knew, the aliens had never used any openings other than strictly necessary gates and doors in their aboveground structures. It was as if they had done everything possible to avoid letting sunlight and fresh air into their strangely graceful buildings. As far as the experts could determine, the lush, thriving surface of Harmony, with its fertile valleys, thickly forested mountains, broad rivers, and vibrant oceans, had been toxic to the long-vanished civilization. For the most part, the aliens had lived their lives underground.
Two ghost hunters guarded the tunnel entrance. They were dressed in the traditional khakis and leather that rank-and-file Guild men favored. The macho attire went with the swagger. They had been lounging against a green wall when Lyra and Cruz walked into the chamber, but they straightened quickly.
"Mr. Sweetwater," one of the two said, nodding respectfully. "We were told to expect you. The sled is standing by down below. There's an extra locator on board. Anything else you need, sir?"
"Not at the moment," Cruz said. "This is Miss Dore. She'll be accompanying me to the site."
"Yes, sir," the second man said. He gave Lyra an appraising survey. "They said you'd be bringing someone who could open that damned ruin."
"That would be me," Lyra said coolly.
"Yes, ma'am." The first man eyed Vincent. "That a dust bunny?"
"Yes," Lyra said. "His name is Vincent."
The second ghost hunter frowned. "Not sure we're authorized to allow a varmint into the tunnels."
Lyra narrowed her eyes. "The bunny is with me. He goes where I go."
Cruz took a locator out of his pocket and checked his amber as he walked past the men. "They're both with me."
"Yes, sir," both hunters said simultaneously.
They stepped quickly out of Lyra's path. She made to follow Cruz, Vincent tucked firmly under one arm.
One of the men spoke behind her.
"Miss Dore?"
She paused. "Yes?"
"Do you really think you can open that amethyst ruin?" he asked. "We've got two good men trapped in there with the research team."
"Morgan and Estrada," the second man said. "Morgan is a friend. Estrada is my brother-in-law. My sister is in a real panic."
Their anxiety was genuine, Lyra thought. She gave them an equally genuine smile. "Don't worry; I'll get it open."
"You think they'll be okay?" the first man said. "There's talk about some weird energy inside that ruin."
"I've been informed that no one was caught in the entrance when it closed, so unless they've done something really dumb like try to get through the energy field, they should be fine," she said. "I spent a lot of time in that chamber before Amber Inc. and the Guild forced me out. There's nothing inside the ruin that would harm your friends."
Both men looked relieved.
"Thanks," the first one said. "Don't mind telling you we've all been damn worried."
The second one exhaled heavily. "We appreciate what you're doing for us, ma'am."
"Right," Lyra said. She turned away before either of the two men could remind her of the old Guild saying, "The Guild always repays a favor."
"The Guild always repays a favor, Miss Dore," the first hunter called after her.
She winced. "Thanks, but I'll pass on any Guild favors."
She hurried toward the staircase. Cruz was waiting for her at the top of the glowing green steps. He looked amused.
"Amber Inc. has the same policy," he said.
"Excellent. If you want to repay me, you can return the ruin to me." She started down the staircase.
He ignored the comment and started down the stairs behind her. "You were nice to those two guards," he said. "Thought you said all Guild men were thugs. Sort of like all Amber Inc. people."
"Amber Inc. is a closely held family business. They don't actively recruit. But the Guilds do. What's more, they focus their efforts on vulnerable young males, seducing them with notions of an adventurous life in the underworld. But the reality is that most ghost hunters are nothing more than bodyguards for the research and excavation teams that go down into the tunnels and the jungle."
"And Amber Inc.?"
"The power behind the throne," she said. "For the past fifty years, ever since your grandfather cheated mine out of the Radiance Springs claim, your family has controlled half the SRA production in the four city-states."
"My grandfather tells the story a little differently."
"I'm sure he does. But the truth is, AI tolerates wild catters and independents only so long as we don't get in your way or come up with any really spectacular finds. If we do get lucky, you step in and take over. What's more, you have all the connections with the Guilds, the archaeologists, and the government to make it happen legally. On top of that, you keep things in the family. You've never gone public with your stock, so you don't have to explain things to shareholders or follow the usual corporate rules."
"We don't like the idea of outsiders trying to tell us what to do," Cruz said mildly.
"Trust me, I know the feeling," she said. "Let's move. It's late, and I've got to be up early in the morning."
"Appointment with a client?"
"No, my Harmonic Meditation class."
"When did you start taking classes in meditation?"
"Shortly after you told me your real name and walked out the door. I thought the classes would help me deal with the stress and my hostility issues."
"Any luck?"
"Let's just say that if you had come looking for my assistance two months ago, I would have told you that your research team and those two Guild men could stay in that chamber until green hell freezes over."
"No," he said. "You wouldn't have let five people suffer because of what I did."
He sounded far too certain of his conclusion. What could she say? It was the truth. She pretended she hadn't heard him and concentrated on keeping her balance on the dizzying staircase.
The steps were fairly wide, but they twisted down into the green world in a convoluted pattern that made no sense architecturally. Like everything else constructed by the aliens, the proportions were slightly off to human eyes. But the heavy dose of psi flowing up from the tunnels gave her a familiar little rush. She knew that Cruz felt the buzz, too.
Vincent wriggled out from under her arm. She set him on a step. He scampered ahead of her down the staircase, his little red beret flopping in a jaunty fashion.
"Looks like he knows where he's going," Cruz observed.
"As far as I can tell, dust bunnies are right at home down here. They don't seem to have any trouble navigating the tunnels or the jungle."
"Unlike us humans."
No one knew why the aliens had constructed the vast network of catacombs that crisscrossed the planet. In two hundred years of excavation and exploration, the descendants of the colonists had succeeded in charting only a small percentage of the seemingly endless maze of tunnels.
Recently the discovery of an even greater mystery, the massive underground rain forest, had attracted so much attention from explorers and archaeologists and treasure hunters that mapping the tunnels had dropped to a low priority for most corporations engaged in underworld business. The strange jungle held out the promise of far more scientifically and financially rewarding discoveries.
As the Guild men had promised, the little utility sled was waiting at the foot of the staircase. Cruz got in behind the wheel. Lyra slid onto the bench seat beside him. Vincent bounded up onto the dashboard, where he had a clear view. He looked like a fluffy hood ornament.