Indentured (Book 2 of the Dana Halliday series)

GHOST TOWN. DIVINE SUPERVISION. THE DOME.

The ghost town was truly that, a village abandoned some decades prior. Redmond Hanover explained that it had been the home of the Tirzen workers who built the dam across the lower lake, and deserted once the project was completed. The dam was inspected, infrequently, by a team from Tadscas, at which time the Earthers would hide themselves on the other side of the pass.

The largest structure in the village was a big dome-shaped building, near the end of the dam—the north end, according to my arbitrary mental compass. The rest of the buildings were low boxes of gray brick, covered in a blue-black mosslike growth. There were trees here, or at least this planet's equivalent: trunks of smooth russet bark with spreading branches, and long, narrow leaves of deepest green. It rains on this side, I thought, and wanted, quite suddenly, to feel raindrops on my face.

"They know we're up here," Hanover said as we strolled through the village. There weren't roads as such, not anymore, but pathways that spiraled out from the domed building. Spearlike vegetation, red and black, thrust its way out of the sandy soil in little hummocks. "But they leave us alone, and we leave them alone."

I thought I heard Noah mutter, "Mostly."

"The Tirzens are pretty good about that," I agreed, and there were some muttery grumbles from the Committee. "Um, how often are they up here?"

"Oh, it's been a year or so.  I expect the whole thing to collapse any time.  The spillway is remotely controlled. You hear the water? The floodgates are almost closed at the moment."

I'd been hearing that soft rush of running water, but my mind wanted to ignore it, make it a part of the breeze. It was a sound I knew from Earth, from waterfalls and rivers, and I pushed the thought away again. This wasn't Earth.

We continued over the low hill into a depression, a shallow ravine. The mountains reared up all around us into the remnants of the fog, and although the air was warmer now, it was ridiculously pleasant after the weeks in Kez's compound.

At the bottom of the ravine yawned the mouth of a cave. The opening was double the size of a garage door, and rudimentary steps had been carved down into it. A trickle of water, as if from a leaky garden hose, ran down one wall and out, presumably to join the outflow from the dam. The water smelled faintly of sulfur and was steaming a little in the cooler air from the cave.

Sitting at the entrance was another man with a shotgun propped up at his side. He did a double-take, but remained seated.

Liti balked, and I stopped as well. We were surrounded by the Committee, who also halted. The tension had solidified enough that I could feel it, never mind the Fenn. Redmond Hanover paused in the middle of the steps and looked back up at us, eyebrows raised in noncommittal inquiry.

"Sorry." I offered Liti my arm. She linked hers through it and rested her cheek against my shoulder, her eyes locked on Hanover. "But we're women traveling alone here. You'll forgive us if we're a little wary."

They had guns; certainly they could make us do whatever the hell they wanted. But I'd dealt with plenty of people trying to push my boundaries as well as my buttons—most veterinarians have. At some point you learn to put your foot down and head that bullshit off at the pass.

"Of course." Hanover did seem to soften a bit. "I give you my word that you are safe here, and I would never break my word to a true Earther."

Liti made a tiny growl, too low to really hear, but I felt the rumble against my side. I looked down at her.

She spoke in Low Fenn, while keeping her eyes on all the men at once. "I'll stay out here."

"Ihi," I replied, and pointed back the way we'd come. I continued in Standard. "Wait up there."