He and his friends were led to a smooth rock being used as a table. On it were piles of mushroom-like fungi, pale and smooth, and dried out cockroach-like bugs. Neither had the bright green glow of the vines or the fish they had seen. Annaki-Akan pointed to the food, then his mouth. Aston’s reluctance must have been clear on his face, for Akan moved forward, took one bug and a pinch of fungus and ate both together with relish. He nodded, stepped back, gestured again.
“I am starving,” Jen said. “And still weak as a baby.”
“We’ll need energy,” Aston agreed. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Holy hell,” Tate said. “I feel like that chick from the Indiana Jones movie. The one they tried to feed eyeball soup.”
Aston managed a grin.”
The three of them took some of the fungus and tentatively ate it. Aston found it dry, dusty, spongy in texture with a subtle savory flavor, but it wasn’t too unpleasant. He tried a little more. “It’s okay,” he said.
Tate and Jen both chewed, faces twisted in mild concern. Or perhaps disgust.
“Well, in for a quarter, in for a buck,” Aston said, and threw one of the dried bugs into his mouth. It was crunchy and rich, with a nutty taste that he found strong and slightly unnerving. After a few chews he grew used to it. “Actually not bad,” he said with a smile.
Jen and Tate gave identical shrugs and the three of them ate their fill of small mushrooms and beetles. Some of the Annaki joined them, clearly some hierarchy at play where a handful of the pale creatures ate while the rest filed out and went about their business.
Aston hadn’t realized how hungry he was and felt strength and clarity of thought return as he ate. He didn’t like to guess at the actual nutritional value of the stuff. Looking at the Annaki, he didn’t fancy living on a diet of it for long, but in the short term, it was a valuable feed.
As they had their fill, Aston tried to communicate again. “We need to find our friends,” he said.
Akan looked quizzical, tipped its head.
“Our friends,” Aston said. He pointed to himself, then Tate, then Jen, then pointed to three fingers on his left hand. He did it again, then held up the last two fingers of that hand, pointed to them and shrugged. Akan was clearly confused. He repeated the gestures, then swept his arm around to encompass the cavern they were in and beyond. “We have two more friends,” he said, despairing and frustrated. “We need to find them.”
“I don’t think he gets it, man,” Tate said. “I say we let them take their chances and convince these guys to show us the way out. They must know one, right?”
“No way!” Aston said. “I’m not leaving Jo down here. And Syed was with her.”
“They’re probably dead already. If not, they probably will be soon.”
“We can’t know that,” Jen said. “And we can’t just give up on them. We have to try to find them.”
Tate laughed, but it had little humor in it. “Do we have to? Really? I’m thinking all I have to do is get the hell out of here.”
“You’re not a bad person, Ronda,” Aston said. “You really going to be selfish now? We can ask these guys to help us find Slater and Syed, and then show us all the way out. They’ve survived for who knows how long down here, so they can obviously avoid the mantics. We’ll be safe with them if we befriend them.”
Tate pursed her lips, shook her head. After a moment, she looked down, but said no more. Aston had to hope she’d stick with them. He turned his attention back to Akan. “Our friends.” He stopped, thinking. Then he pulled the bloodstone dagger from his jacket. Akan made positive noises, pointed to the weapon and moved his arms like mantic mandibles. “These work against the mantics?” Aston asked.
Akan tilted his head, confused again. Aston shook it off. He needed to focus. He used the point of the dagger to scratch crude drawings in the loose grit of the cave floor. He made five stick figures. He pointed to the first, then at himself, and said, “Me. Aston.” Then he pointed at the next one and then to Tate. Then to the third one, then to Jen. Akan frowned, then nodded. It pointed to the other two stick figures and looked around.
“Yes, exactly!” Aston said. He gestured widely once more. “Where? Where are our two friends?”
Akan paused, seemingly in thought. Then it took out a bloodstone dagger of its own and sketched a rough map in the dirt. He marked several passages, then drew a huge circle. He added ripple marks, making the circle look like a body of water. He tapped at it, as if to say ‘Try here’.
When the other Annaki who had remained with them realized what Akan had drawn, they set up a clamor, jabbering and clicking. Akan argued back. The conversation grew heated, adversarial.
“They sure don’t like his suggestion,” Aston said to Tate and Jen.
Akan argued some more, then barked a couple of short, sharp phrases. He seemed to have some authority and the others reluctantly quieted down. Akan stood and motioned for Aston to follow.
He saw it was trembling, nervous even in its conviction. “We’ll come with you,” he said, hurrying Tate and Jen along. But he wondered if it was a mistake.
Akan and two other Annaki led the way, the two clearly reluctant but doing as they were told. None of them seemed happy.
“Where is it taking us, do you think?” Tate asked.
“I don’t know,” Aston said. “But wherever it is, I think this little guy is scared shitless of what’s waiting there.”
35
Slater led the way through dark tunnels, shining her headlamp before her. Syed walked at her side, the biologist’s face set and determined, but fear was obvious in her eyes. Slater hoped her pounding heart couldn’t be heard over the scuff and scrape of their footsteps. She had to think of something, because if she continued to lead them blindly along dark passages, eventually they would tire of humoring her. And then, she thought, they would almost certainly shoot her.
She clenched her teeth, literally biting down on the panic that threatened to rise and take her sanity away. The pressure of these dark tubes of rock had started to become a palpable force, the claustrophobia repeatedly stripping her breath, forcing her to gasp great lungfuls of frightened breath. She didn’t want to die down here, by any means. Not at the snapping mandibles of the mantics, though at least that would be quick. She didn’t want to be shot either, even if that was equally swift. But most of all, she didn’t want to wander lost and frightened, only to get weaker and weaker until she eventually starved to death in the dark, with no light, no food or water, no friends. No hope. She suppressed a sob, thoughts of Aston coming back to her. He had to be alive. If recent events had taught her anything, it was that Aston was hard to kill and the bastard had a habit of popping up again. She had to hold onto that hope. If she considered him already dead, the insanity would leap from the base of her gut where it swirled and throttle her mind in an instant.