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Connell felt a tentacle grab at his foot like the caress of a python reaching for a crushable meal. He kicked hard but hit only empty air. Another long tentacle shot out — he saw a silvery flash and felt searing, scorching pain rip through his shoulder. Blood spilled down his chest and side — it looked purple in the cavern's strange blue light. A baseball-sized rock sailed through the air and glanced off his temple, yet he held on. He felt himself yanked upwards as his unseen helpers pulled him out of the rocktopi's reach.

O'Doyle screamed below him. The big man's face contorted in agony but he continued up the rope, spinning wildly like a trick yo-yo. Connell saw a platinum knife buried deep in O'Doyle's leg, blood spurting free, falling in bomb-run droplets to the ground some two hundred feet below. Mack's body was already invisible, covered by a dozen hacking, slashing, glowing rocktopi that tore into his corpse.

Suddenly Connell's upward pull ended. Rough hands dragged him onto another flat stone cliff. He saw both his blood and a strange, yellowish fluid splashing on the rock, making it slick and wet. Hands flashed at his chest, he looked up to see Randy Wright moving to free him from the tangled harness. Off to Connell's right, he saw Veronica and Sanji haul Lybrand over the cliff's edge. Seconds later O'Doyle cleared the edge, pulling himself up with a final, powerful effort, his face wrenched with agony. The wicked knife jutted from his thigh.

Connell closed his eyes. A sudden silence gripped the cliff, broken only by ragged breathing and O'Doyle's soft, painful moans. Connell rolled away from the cliff's edge and sat up, hand pressed to his stinging shoulder.

"So hot,” he heard O'Doyle mumble. “So hot."

As if O'Doyle's words were a trigger, Connell's mind registered the massive temperature swell. The heat hit him as if he'd stepped into a kiln. He laid back, struggling to breathe, feeling waves of heat wash over him. Every square inch of his body prickled and burned with a million tiny bee stings.

"Their suits,” he heard Lybrand yell in a dreamy, far-off voice. “They're losing all the coolant!"

Connell tried to speak, but nothing came out, and suddenly all he could think about were the black spots that danced maddeningly in his vision.

Connell felt hands lift him, gently but firmly, and carry him away from the cliff's edge. The spots in his vision widened, growing even blacker, until they were spots no more, filling his vision, blocking out the light.

Book Five: The Rocktopi

Chapter Thirty-two

August 28, 5:21 a.m.

Kayla found herself somewhere between admiration and rage. Squatting on her heels, she stared at the last of the pyramid-like devices Angus had scattered all over the mountain. She appreciated the genius that had gone into building the object, but at the same time wanted to slice open the builder's stomach and spread his entrails on the cool morning ground.

She stood, took two steps back, and fired her Steyr GB-80 at the machine. It shattered into a dozen useless pieces of smoldering, twisted metal and ripped wires.

Now the little prick was completely cut off. He'd cost her five precious hours, time spent tracking down all six of the hidden machines.

You fucking little prick.

She had to get to him. Who knew what other clever little methods he had, what other tactics he might use to call for help? She had to nail his ass before he could do that. He was getting the pliers, all right, and this time she wouldn't stop with just a knuckle or two.

Hopefully the unit she'd taken back to her warren could provide some information. He was down there, she just knew it.

5:34 a.m.
15,538 feet below the surface

Connell woke with a start, eyes wide open and hunting for any sign of rocktopi. His shoulder throbbed with pain and his back screamed with complaint. He heard a strange crackling sound, but didn't know if it was real or just a creation of his fogged head. He looked around wildly, but saw only the others in the party, sleeping the sleep of the dead.

"Connell, relax, it's okay,” Veronica said groggily, putting a hand on his good shoulder. She had been sleeping beside him.

"Where are we?"

"We're in a cave that Angus and Randy sealed off with rocks. We're safe. For now, at least."

Connell looked at her. Concern showed through her weariness. Had she been watching over him? Visions of Mack's massacred body flashed through his head. “How long have I been out?"

"About five hours. We stitched up your shoulder as best we could. We didn't have any surgical thread; we had to use fibers from one of the ropes. You're going to have a nasty scar. Angus used up all the patches to fix up your and O'Doyle's suits. You've lost a lot of blood. You need to rest."

"I can't rest, Veronica.” Connell grunted as he slowly stood, ignoring the pain in his knee, back and shoulder. “How is O'Doyle?"

"He's sleeping. We stitched him up too and patched his KoolSuit. He'll probably be okay as long as we don't move him for awhile."

"How long is awhile?"

"I'd say we can't move him for at least a day."

A day. They couldn't wait a day. They couldn't even afford to wait an hour. “Wake everyone up,” he said, slowly flexing his wounded shoulder, testing its abilities. “We've got to figure out the next step."

5:36 a.m.

The tiny cave held few shadows, thanks to the small but powerful lights provided by Angus. The scrambler's crackling buzz filled the air. Everyone gathered in a circle at the cave's center, gazing up at Connell. They all looked exhausted, zombies staring at him with combinations of fear, anger, and hopelessness.

Connell glared at Angus. As of that moment, their lives rested on the scientist's homemade scrambler. “We need to get caught up on how you found us and why we're safe here, as you claim."

Angus appeared calm and optimistic. Dirt, dust, and even a little dried blood smeared his bright yellow KoolSuit, but his face looked clean, and his wild red hair stuck out in tufts. Randy just stared at the ground.

"Well, we faked the lab accident for starters,” Angus said, standing up to talk as if he were addressing a board meeting. “I hope that didn't cause anyone grief.” Angus ignored O'Doyle's murderous glare. The big man was propped up against a boulder, his leg isolated in a makeshift splint fashioned from a cannibalized backpack.

"Randy and I found another entrance,” Angus said. “It wasn't visible with the initial computer models, but some further refinement made it clear. I believe it's the same entrance that Sonny talked about in his report, the one where the geology students disappeared."

Connell felt his temper rising. “Why didn't you tell me you found another way in?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't let me in the caves until they'd been explored, despite my notable experience in the field,” Angus said. “I discovered this cave system and I deserved to be the first person in here. We came in that entrance and moved toward the Picture Cavern, as you call it, because we knew that would be the first major discovery point for Mack and his crew."

"That's why you planted the sign,” Connell said. “You couldn't just be the first one in, you had to let everyone else know that they weren't the first."

"Well, we had to be able to prove it,” Angus said. “The signs were clear proof that we were there before anyone else. We planted one in that cavern and seven others elsewhere throughout the complex. We had a two-day head start on you all. Randy and I are highly skilled spelunkers, so we've covered a great deal of territory. More than anyone else could have managed, I'd say. As to why we're safe here, Randy and I captured and dissected one of the artificial life robots."