Cruz ran a check of the sled's navigation instruments. Lyra automatically pulsed a little psi through her bracelet as well as the standard resonating amber she always carried with her. Getting lost in the catacombs was all too easy, and the results were deadly if you didn't have tuned amber. Independent prospectors became downright obsessive about amber. In addition, loners like her were always at risk of falling prey to thieves and the antiquities gangs underground. Both had a nasty habit of getting rid of people by stranding them in the jungle or the catacombs without amber. She always carried plenty of backup, and a lot of that backup was concealed.
"The jungle gate we'll be using is about ten minutes from here," Cruz said.
He rezzed the sled's simple little motor. More sophisticated engines and high-tech tools and equipment in general did not function well, if at all, in the heavy psi environment. The small vehicle raced along the corridor at top speed, which was just a little faster than the average person could run. Vincent leaned into the light breeze and made happy little noises.
"He likes to go fast," Lyra said.
"I remember."
They passed a dizzying array of vaulted chambers and rooms, all fashioned of glowing green quartz, all empty. In a rotunda intersection that served seven branching passageways, Cruz paused to check the instruments again. Then he swung the sled to the left. They made a few more disorienting turns before Lyra spotted the gate that opened into the rain forest.
Several people were milling around the opening. In addition to a number of Guild men, there were a lot of worried-looking tech types dressed in jungle uniforms bearing the Amber Inc. logo. There were also some folks holding cameras and notebooks. They looked bored, but that changed fast when they spotted the sled.
"Damn," Cruz muttered. "I was afraid that the press would get wind of this situation."
Once again Lyra found herself feeling a tiny drop of unwilling sympathy for him.
"Face it," she said. "There are some things even Amber Inc. can't control."
"Yeah, I discovered that the hard way three months ago when you started bashing the company in the media."
"Give me a break. I couldn't even put a dent in Amber Inc."
"I wouldn't say that. The public relations department had to work overtime for weeks to deal with the inquiries they got from every reporter in town. Even the tabloids were calling, wanting to know if Amber Inc. was participating in another Guild cover-up like the one that took place in Crystal City a couple months back."
She smiled, pleased. "Well, you were conspiring with the Guild to keep the discovery of the amethyst ruin under wraps."
"Only because we were concerned with security issues. We didn't want to have to deal with every tunnel rat, souvenir hunter, and low-rent antiquities thief in the four city-states. But that's pretty much what happened after you took your story public."
"Nice to know your PR people at least learned my name."
He brought the sled to a halt and looked at her. Laughter glinted briefly in his dark eyes. "Believe me when I tell you that at company headquarters, you are legendary."
"I'll try to take some comfort from that."
The reporters reached the sled before the Guild men could stop them. Lyra recognized several familiar faces in the crowd. Cruz was right; she had given a lot of interviews three months ago when she had filed the lawsuit.
Tina Tazewell from the Frequency Herald rezzed one of the low-tech cameras designed to work in the underworld and snapped off several shots. "Miss Dore, is it true Amber Inc. had to call you in to rescue a team trapped inside the ruin?" she asked.
"That's my understanding, Tina." Lyra scooped Vincent off the dashboard and climbed out of the sled. "Evidently they don't have anyone on staff who can handle the job."
Excited by the commotion, Vincent fluttered up onto her shoulder. She heard more cameras rez.
"Can we assume that you agreed to assist in the rescue effort because you and Cruz Sweetwater have a personal relationship?" Tina asked.
"Heavens no," Lyra said airily. "This is strictly business."
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Brett Bolton from the Current step in front of Cruz. He had a notebook in hand.
"Does this mean that the Amber Inc.-Dore feud is concluded, Mr. Sweetwater?"
"What feud?" Cruz asked.
He went past Bolton and sharked through the gaggle of reporters until he got to Lyra.
"If you'll excuse us," he said, "Miss Dore is a little busy at the moment. She's got a team to rescue. For the record, Amber Inc. is very grateful to her for assisting us in this crisis."
"How grateful?" Tina Tazewell demanded.
Cruz ignored her. He took Lyra's arm and steered her toward the jungle gate where the hunters and the people in AI uniforms waited.
The entrance to the rain forest was a large, rectangular opening in the green quartz wall. Humid heat flowed out into the corridor, but it evaporated almost instantly, nullified by the always steady temperature of the catacombs. Lyra saw a little dirt and one or two dead leaves on the floor of the tunnel and knew that they had been carried out on the bottom of someone's boots. The debris would soon disintegrate and disappear altogether, thanks to some as yet unidentified mechanism that kept the tunnels clean.
Nothing escaped the jungle unless it was carried out. A number of gates had been opened during the past few months, and at each of them a mysterious and—to human senses undetectable—force field kept the flora and fauna securely confined within the rain forest the aliens had created. The researchers and scientists had quickly discovered that living specimens did not last long aboveground. The plants and animals in the artificially constructed jungle required the heavy psi atmosphere inside their bioengineered world to survive. Like the aliens themselves, they found the surface of Harmony an inhospitable and deadly place.
The green glow of artificial sunlight was clearly visible. It was night on the surface, but the jungle ran on its own schedule.
Lyra moved through the gate, Cruz at her side. At once the rich, living energy of the jungle enveloped her. The Guild maintained a clearing directly in front of the tunnel entrance, but she knew it required daily maintenance. The jungle reclaimed territory with startling speed. Paths established one day usually vanished by the following afternoon.
Beyond the perimeter of the clearing the massed greenery pressed close. It was impossible to see more than a few feet because of the dense foliage, all of it shimmering in various hues of luminous green. The trees towered upward, forming a leafy canopy that concealed most of the quartz sky. Small things skittered in the undergrowth. Birds screeched in the distance.
"Thanks for coming down here, Miss Dore," one of the Guild men said.
She gave him her most vivacious smile. "Well, it wasn't like I was doing anything else more entertaining this evening."
Relieved laughter greeted that remark. The small crowd of ghost hunters and Amber Inc. people seemed to relax.
"How far to the ruin from here?" she asked. "When I discovered it, I used a different gate. You know how it is; distances are deceptive underground."
Her not-so-subtle claim to the ruin did not go unnoticed. Cruz smiled slightly. The AI people exchanged glances. The Guild men, however, were a lot more focused. There was a team trapped in the jungle. It was their responsibility to rescue it.
"The amethyst chamber is only a thirty-minute hike from here," the lead hunter said. He hesitated. "That's if you're accustomed to jungle travel. If you're not used to it—"
"I've done this before," Lyra assured him.
"She's a pro," Cruz added.
She glanced back over her shoulder and saw the reporters crowded around the entrance, still snapping photos. "Are they coming with us?"