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Connell turned on him. “The fuck you are! You're staying right here, dammit. I'm going to get Veronica, we'll wait twenty minutes for O'Doyle to rest, then we're going."

"I'm going,” Randy said. He looked Connell right in the eye. “And Angus is coming with me."

"I am?” Angus asked.

"You are,” Randy said. “Connell, if you think you can stop me, you're welcome to try."

Connell wasn't much better off than O'Doyle, which meant he wasn't in shape to fight another man, even a scrawny guy like Randy. He'd never seen Randy so… confident, determined.

Lybrand checked her watch. “We're leaving at 9:47. Anyone not back here is on their own."

Connell turned and hobbled toward Veronica. Sanji went with him.

Chapter Thirty-eight

9:28 a.m.

Kayla was motionless, unblinking. She stood in a thin side tunnel, half hidden by a series of thick brown stalagmites. It walked past her with smooth strides. Was it dangerous? She had no idea. She didn't even know if it could see her. Her hand clutched her Steyr GB-80, the hammer cocked and waiting.

She waited until it was only a few feet away, then flicked the gun toward the thing and pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into the round body, denting the metal and knocking it against the far wall.

It took a staggering, unsure step. Kayla fired twice more, both bullets knocking huge dents into the body. It stopped walking, instead it sat on the sand, legs twitching spasmodically. Kayla took careful aim and fired once more — this time the bullet punched a neat hole in the body.

The thing stopped moving.

Evidence, Kayla thought. She carefully lifted the thing by one thin leg. She'd never seen anything like it, and knew instantly that the government would drool over such an advanced machine.

But was that enough? It was still just a machine. It wasn't intelligent. It wasn't enough. Kayla stashed the dented robot behind the brown stalagmites. She'd retrieve it on her way out.

She checked the map — only about forty-five minutes to the Dense Mass. Seeing the coast was clear, she continued down the Linus Highway.

9:31 a.m.

"Not much left besides the walls and dust,” Randy said as he worked his way through narrow corridors not designed for human passage. A musty, archaic odor filled the air, the smell of abandoned industrial machines combined with buildings left mildewy and ravaged by floodwaters. River mist drifted lightly inside the ship, collected on the walls and dripped to the floor to collect in little stagnant pools. The dark alien vessel felt dungeon-like and dangerous, as if it might spring to life and swallow them up at any moment.

"This is retarded,” Angus said. “Let's head back."

"You don't want to head back and you know it. You're staying with me."

Despite the desperate situation, Randy Wright had never felt so good. He'd stood up to Angus, and because of that they'd rescued the others from the cliff's edge. For the first time in his life, he hadn't backed down; he'd stood up and fought for what was right. And then he'd stood up to Mr. Big Shit Connell Kirkland. He'd stood up to Cutthroat. Randy wasn't going to be a pushover anymore, he wasn't just going to be a follower.

The corridors were small and round. He was glad he'd left the pack with O'Doyle and Lybrand, near the riverbank just outside the ship — it was nice to walk around unencumbered for a change. An endless expanse of sphere-shaped rooms spilled out before them. Piles of damp dust, the nameless remnants of what might have been furniture, clothes — possibly even the rocktopi themselves — filled every room.

"Look at this,” Angus said. Randy rushed over to see the find. Embedded in the wall was an ancient but technical looking device made of platinum and what appeared to be ceramic material. It looked like an isolated modern art sculpture mounted on a mold-covered metal wall. Empty spaces in the device glared with shadows each time their headlamps passed by.

"Man, this has been here a long time,” Angus said. “These blue and yellow ceramics apparently don't decay at all. Any plastics or other non-platinum metals are long gone."

"What do you think it was?"

"How the flying fuck would I know?” Angus said with a sneer. He acted like he didn't want to be in the ship, but Randy knew him well. Angus was secretly thankful Randy had pushed for the brief ship exploration. Angus would never say as much, but that was okay.

"Let's pry it off,” Angus said. “Maybe we can tell something by the wiring, if there's any left."

At a loss for a better idea, Randy found a loose piece of the heavy platinum/iridium metal and worked it into the edge of the device, where it met the curved wall. Angus did the same. After a few seconds of prying, the device popped free and fell to the floor with a clatter. It landed face-down, the remaining blue and yellow ceramic pieces shattering into a thousand brittle bits and scattering across the floor like scurrying cockroaches.

Angus stared at the blank wall behind where the device had been. The wall was smooth, seamless, just like the rest of the room.

Randy's nose wrinkled in confusion. “No wires?"

"Don't you get it?” Angus said. “This whole ship is one solid piece of platinum, one of the best conductors known. Platinum conducts electrical signals with almost no degeneration."

Randy's eyes widened — suddenly, the ship's construction and materials seemed to make sense. “It's just like the silverbug muscles, no wires needed. The rocktopi sent the signals through the entire ship."

"Yes!” Angus said. “Just like a computer network."

"So the entire ship is the wiring,” Randy said. “Their computers send signals that travel through the entire hull, but only the target device reads it."

"It's genius!” Angus said. “Even if the ship takes damage, even if it gets a big hole punched through it, all devices not destroyed will still function. As long as the device remains connected to the hull it can send and receive commands."

"And it's not just the outside hull,” Randy said, his eyes gazing across the room's curved walls and ceiling. “Everything inside is platinum too. This ship is so vastly compartmentalized it would practically never depressurize."

"That's a good point. It makes me think this is a warship. Imagine how much damage this beast could take and continue functioning. Every device they have would work until it took a direct hit."

"But how did they weld this all so seamlessly?” Randy asked. “If it's taking damage, hull stress is going to eventually sever the seams and break a lot of contact points for the signal."

"Look at the room we're in, Randy,” Angus said patiently. “What does it look like?"

Randy looked around again, not understanding. “It looks like a ball."

Angus leaned forward, as if to give a hint. “Not a ball…"

"A bubble,” Randy whispered, suddenly understanding and feeling like a stone-age imbecile compared to the technology that surrounded them. “A bubble. A bubble made when they cast the hull. This entire ship is a solid piece of platinum with bubbles for rooms and hallways."

The two scientists wandered around the ship in wonderment. Randy kept a close eye on his watch. They had another fourteen minutes before they had to head back.

They splashed through the damp, sewer-like halls, talking loudly and excitedly to each other. They made too much noise to hear the tiny click click click of metal feet that followed them at a discreet distance.

9:34 a.m.

Connell and Sanji entered the alcove to find Veronica staring at the walls. The alcove was almost twenty feet in diameter and some fifteen feet high. Like the Picture Cavern, detailed carvings completely covered the walls.