Kesh Varo arrived with a sack that moved.
It was not a large sack. She carried it under one arm, tied at the neck with a cord. When she set it on Sera’s table, something inside pushed against the cloth and made a dry scraping sound.
Brin, who had been delivering a message, took a step back. “Is that alive?”
“For the moment,” Kesh said.
She was a lean woman a little older than Iven, with a weathered face and short dark hair. Her coat had been patched in a way that suggested the patches were expected to be replaced regularly. A narrow leather case hung from her belt. She untied the sack and tipped its contents into a shallow metal tray.
A small pale creature landed on its back. It had six legs, a hard segmented shell, and a pair of short feelers that moved independently. It righted itself, walked to the edge of the tray, and stopped when it encountered the raised rim.
“That’s not what I saw,” Iven said.
“No,” Kesh replied. “This one eats the residue that grows around damp filters. It doesn’t break pipes or chase people. I brought it because the last crew called everything pale a guardian.”
The creature circled the tray. Sera placed a piece of damp cloth near it. The feelers touched the cloth, then withdrew.
“What do you call it?” Brin asked.
“A scraper.”
“Does it bite?”
“If you put your finger close enough.”
Brin kept his hands behind his back. “What does the other kind look like?”
Kesh opened the leather case. Inside lay a curved piece of mineral plate, pale gray with a darker edge. It was as long as Iven’s hand and thicker near the center. Several scratches crossed its surface.
“This came off one that attacked a drilling crew,” Kesh said. “The animal was larger than a dog and lower to the ground. Four main limbs, at least two smaller ones underneath. It could pull itself through a space narrower than you’d expect.”
Iven picked up the plate. It was heavier than it looked. The underside had a rough, fibrous texture, and one edge had broken along an uneven line.
“Did you kill it?” he asked.
“No. It lost the plate when the crew pulled a drill head free.”
“Was it attacking the people or the drill?”
“Both, by the time I got there. I didn’t see the beginning.” Kesh took the plate back. “That’s why I’m interested in your account from the filter bank.”
Iven described the creature under the platform, the way it had climbed toward them, and its return to the bent pipe. He included the thrown lamp, though he would have preferred to leave that part out.
“You hit it,” Kesh said.
“It caught my coat.”
“I’m not criticizing. Did it come after you once you were clear?”
“It followed me two steps. Then it went back to the pipe.”
“Was the pipe moving?”
“Not much. It had been bent when the panel fell.”
Kesh made a note on a folded sheet. Her writing was small and cramped, with marks in the margins that Iven could not read from across the table.
Sera set a cup of water beside the tray. “The work order says you were hired to guide the crew.”
“I was hired to get them in and out. I’d also like to know what they’re disturbing.”
“Will the board let you inspect the drill site?”
“The board wants to know why the crew lost its tools. If I tell them the tools walked away, they’ll ask what they walked on.”
Iven put the work order on the table. “How many people?”
“Five, including us. A board mechanic named Pellan is coming. He was at the filter bank when Maret fell. He knows the route as far as the second housing. Elian Veyr is coming to check the survey marks.”
“The governor’s son?”
Kesh nodded. “He says the old route on the map doesn’t match the maintenance reports.”
“Does he know the route?”
“He knows the map. That’s why he wants to see it.”
Sera closed her case. “What are your terms?”
Kesh seemed pleased by the question. “We go in with enough lamps for each person and one spare. We carry water, masks, and a line to mark the return route. No one drills. If we find a creature, we do not chase it unless it has someone. If a person says the air is bad, everyone stops to check, even if the lamp is still burning.”
“And if we disagree?” Iven asked.
“Then we decide before the person with the bad air falls down.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“It took me several unreasonable trips to arrive at it.”
Brin leaned over the tray. The scraper had found a seam in the metal and was testing it with its feelers.
“Are you taking that below?” he asked.
“I’m taking it back where I found it.”
“Does it have a name?”
“Scraper.”
“I mean a personal name.”
Kesh considered. “Not one it’s shared with me.”
Brin appeared satisfied. Iven suspected he would give it one as soon as Kesh left.
They met Pellan and Elian the next morning at a loading platform near the rear maintenance shafts. Pellan was a broad man with a scar across his chin and a tool belt that had been repaired with different-colored straps. He recognized Iven from the filter bank and greeted him with a nod.
“I should have gone back for Maret sooner,” he said.
“You got Oris out,” Iven replied.
“I know what I did. I also know what I didn’t do.”
There was no easy answer to that. Iven offered his hand. Pellan shook it and then checked the knots on the line they would use to mark the route.
Elian arrived carrying a rolled map in a protective tube. His coat was clean but not new. A leather satchel hung at his side, and he had a pencil tucked behind one ear. He unrolled the map on a crate and weighted the corners with bolts.
“The route branches here,” he said. “The maintenance board’s copy shows a ladder at the second turn, but the most recent report says it was removed.”
“Neri said the same,” Iven replied.
“I asked the stores office for the removal order. They couldn’t find it.”
“Does that mean it wasn’t removed?” Pellan asked.
“It means they couldn’t find the order.”
Kesh smiled faintly. “A surveyor who knows the difference. We’re fortunate.”
Elian did not seem sure whether he was being praised. He pointed to a narrower line on the map. “There’s a second route, but it may have been closed after a flood. I want to verify which passage is open and mark the change for the next crew.”
Sera inspected the masks. Pellan’s had a cracked strap. He offered to tie it; she replaced it with a fresh strip from her case instead. Kesh checked the lamps, making each person light and extinguish their own. She gave Iven a spare flint and told him where the oil was packed.
“What about weapons?” Iven asked.
Kesh showed them a short hooked pole. “This keeps a creature away from your legs. It isn’t a guarantee. Pellan has a bar. I have another pole. You have your tools and your graft, but don’t use a bell pulse in a narrow chamber without warning us.”
“Because of the sound?”
“Because of the people behind you. If it startles someone carrying a lamp, we may be fighting a fire instead.”
Iven seated the filter and winch patterns. The third channel held the plate brace. He could switch to the piston if they needed a direct strike, but he preferred to begin with ways to breathe, pull, and protect the group.
They descended by a lift that smelled of oil and damp rope. The shaft walls changed as they went down. Near the top, iron plates and timber braces covered nearly everything. Farther below, the supports gave way to curved pale surfaces between sections of masonry. Water ran in narrow channels along the floor. The air warmed and acquired a faint mineral taste.
Pellan led them through the first passage. He marked each turn with chalk while Elian compared the route to his map. At the second junction, they found the missing ladder’s mounting points and the bolts that had once held it. The ladder itself was gone.
“Your map is wrong,” Pellan said.
“I know.” Elian drew a line through the symbol. “Now the next copy can be less wrong.”
The alternate route had flooded in the past. A dark line on the wall showed where water had reached. The floor was dry now, though the drain at its center was packed with sediment. Iven crouched beside it and tested the grate with his spanner.
“Loose,” he said.
“Leave it,” Kesh replied. “We can mark it on the way out.”
A scraping sound came from farther along the passage. Everyone stopped. Kesh raised one hand, then lowered her lamp until its light fell across the floor rather than directly into the dark.
A small scraper emerged from beneath a pipe. It crossed the passage, paused at a patch of damp residue, and began to feed.
Pellan exhaled. “I thought that was one of the big ones.”
“So did the last crew,” Kesh said. “They broke three lamps trying to get away from them.”
“Can the big ones be this quiet?”
“Yes.”
Pellan’s relief lasted only a moment.
They continued. The passage narrowed, and the walls began to curve inward. A row of old braces held the upper section clear. One brace had been replaced recently with a length of bright metal. The bolts at its base were clean, but the surrounding surface was scored as if something had struck it repeatedly.
Kesh crouched beside the marks. “Tools?”
Iven examined them. “Some. The narrow cuts could be from a chisel. These wider ones aren’t regular enough.”
Pellan touched the new brace. “The drilling crew put this in. They said the wall was moving.”
“Everything down here moves,” Kesh said.
“They said it was moving more.”
Sera knelt beside the base. A thin dark fluid had dried along one edge of the brace. She did not touch it with her bare hand. Instead she scraped a small sample into a packet and labeled the location.
Elian looked up from his map. “This isn’t on the work order.”
“The brace?” Iven asked.
“The drilling. The order says the crew was inspecting supports.”
Pellan rubbed his chin. “They were inspecting. They drilled to test the depth.”
“Did they record where?”
“I don’t know.”
Kesh stood. “We can ask when we’re out. For now, we find the tools and get everyone back.”
They reached the second housing without incident. The tools lay where the work order had promised: a drill frame, a box of bits, and two lengths of pipe stacked beside a closed door. One of the pipes had been bent. The box was open, and several bits had spilled across the floor.
Iven picked up a bit. Its tip was chipped, and pale dust filled the grooves. He wrapped it in cloth rather than putting it directly into the box.
“Why?” Elian asked.
“So the dust doesn’t fall out before Sera sees it.”
“That’s thoughtful.”
“It’s also less cleaning for whoever carries the box.”
Pellan tried the door behind the tools. It did not move. He put his shoulder against it, then stepped back when Kesh raised a hand.
“Listen,” Kesh said.
At first Iven heard only the low movement of the machinery. Then a dull knock came from beyond the door. Another followed, slightly farther away.
Pellan gripped his bar. “A worker?”
“No one was assigned beyond this point,” Elian said.
The knocking stopped. Something scraped across the far side of the door, slowly enough that Iven could distinguish individual contacts against the metal.
Kesh lowered her voice. “We have the tools. We leave the door closed.”
Pellan looked at the box, then at the passage behind them. “The drill frame is too heavy for one person.”
“Then two of us carry it,” Iven said.
He and Pellan lifted the frame together. Elian gathered the spilled bits. Sera secured her samples, and Kesh took the rear with her hooked pole.
They had gone only a few paces when the door shook behind them.