Chapter 18
Farah
The lab looked just as creepy and huge as I remembered it.
Bright crystals lit the place from their spots in the tall ceiling, but the vats with liquids added their own glow.
I wasn’t nearly as freaked out about being here now that the robot was defeated and Zeidon was at my side, so I stared with more curiosity than fear this time.
It looked a little strange and bizarre and I wondered what all those different liquids were for.
Were they experiments? Fuel? Some kind of power source?
That seemed likely because this place did have power; electricity lit those crystals and the machines.
The medical examination tables were scattered between workbenches with all kinds of electronics scattered on them, but the vats were most prevalent.
“Do you think that robot was in here long? This place looks like it’s been abandoned for ages…
” Zeidon rolled a shoulder in answer. His hand was locked around mine as he guided me through the lab back to that tunnel exit—the one we’d managed to open.
Yeah, he didn’t know either, but my question made me wonder even more about this planet and what had happened to Zeidon’s people.
This lab was proof that they had risen to technology levels that rivaled Earth’s at some point.
Their healing machines were amazing, better than what the UAR had, even.
That robot was really advanced too, and what it had done to me was some kind of meddling with my genes on a level I couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
The ravings of that Vrash made me think a catastrophe had befallen the Naga people, and he was one of those prepper nutcases combined with grandiose delusions. Except, he was a robot and it just seemed strange that a robot would get unhinged that way.
Zeidon proved he did have an answer to that mystery.
“Vrash is an apparition from the past,” he said, “I saw an image of him welcoming people into Ahoshaga. The caves above us that are made to be homes,” he pointed ahead of us to the tunnel we were looking for.
“It is where the humans and their Naga mates live now.”
He smiled with satisfaction, “That robot would not like it if he knew they are outcasts from their own Clans.” Cast out of their clans?
I supposed that description fit me too; my government had tossed me in the trash when they falsely convicted me for a crime I had not committed. I was cast out too.
“I can’t believe there are others like me, I can’t wait to meet them!
” I said just as we rounded the last row of vats and reached the tunnel.
I froze in place, staring at the wall in shock, while Zeidon hissed in fury.
The doorway was blocked by a huge metal panel that had been welded against the metal door frame.
“Ah, fudge. We’re not going to get out this way, are we?
” I said, my mind easing from tension I hadn’t realized I was holding.
This was the other shoe, it had dropped, and I was kind of relieved it was just a blocked passage and not something far more heinous.
My fingers brushed over the scales that dotted the back of my hand like shimmering bits of opal. We’d already been through so much.
My Naga companion remained silent as he glared at the blocked exit.
Then he shook himself and curled his body around the nearby medical table so he could claim the trident still sticking from the wrecked machine.
“No, but do not worry. We will get out.” Yeah, I had faith in that too, I just hoped it was soon.
I spotted the carbon steel knife I’d used on the robot and the doorway lying in a corner and went over to pick it up.
Holding it out handle first to Zeidon, I said, “That one probably won’t break if you need to stab another robot.
” He smirked, his fist tightening around the gleaming handle of his trident, and then he started unstrapping the empty leather knife sheath from around his forearm.
“You keep it, my trident will work,” he said, and he lowered himself before me on his coils, kind of like he was kneeling at my feet.
With deft fingers, he tightened the clasps of his arm sheath around my thigh and slid the carbon blade home with a practiced move.
“If we get separated…” he started to say but he didn’t finish that sentence and abruptly rose on his tail.
He had me in his arms and his mouth crashing down on mine the next moment.
We would have stayed locked in that embrace, our tongues tangling, my body singing with pleasure, if not for the sound Srazz made.
He chortled suddenly, and that sound morphed into a growl.
We broke apart to look and were just in time to see his quills ruffle up as he pounced on something.
I recognized it when Zeidon managed to pull it from the Ayala’s stubborn mouth.
One of those little crab-like robots that I’d seen crawling all over the robot when he was in one of those vats. They had been fixing him.
“Oh, no,” I said, and I rushed to explain what it might be doing.
“We have to get back to that head and destroy it even more. I think this thing is just one of many and it’s going to fix him, or at least try!
” Zeidon’s answer was a growl and then he snatched me around my middle and threw me over his shoulder.
Buzz screeched when that displaced him but I had no chance to calm my buddy, we were racing back through the lab at breakneck speeds.
It made me dizzy to see all the vats and machines rush by, so I closed my eyes and waited for Zeidon to come to a stop.
The door to that recovery room, our former prison cell, was open.
That was not how we’d left it. Zeidon left me outside, his trident raised as he dashed inside.
Dozens of those little machines were scuttling across the floor but they scattered as he passed them, some were crushed beneath his heavy coils when they were too slow.
Others, Buzz and Srazz chased around the vats or beneath the medical tables.
I pressed my back to the wall next to the door and then leaned around it to peer inside.
Zeidon was in the center of the small room, his hair wildly hanging around his shoulders, a beautiful dark blue-green against his emerald scales.
His trident was raised and on the three spikes the robot head was stuck, several of the crab-like machines clung from it with their spindly legs.
The red glow from its robotic eye had gone out, its mouth hanging open and motionless.
Our eyes met and with a sharp twist of Zeidon’s arm, his muscles bunching along his chest and abdomen, he slammed his trident down on the floor like it was a baseball bat.
The head crashed against the stone and broke into pieces that scattered in every direction.
The crabs scattered with it, racing past me out the door and back into the lab, only to be chased by a chortling Srazz and chirping Buzz.
They weren’t actually catching them now; they were just having fun herding the tiny machines away from us.
“That should do it,” I said with a nod, I didn’t think those crab things could piece that back together.
Just to be sure though, I picked up a blue glowing piece and tucked it into the one pocket I’d managed to sew, for safekeeping.
That part looked important and had to be a small compact power source or maybe a memory storage device.
The grin that Zeidon shot me was devastating; cute, a little cheeky, and a whole lot smug.
“Water Weaver Naga are expert scavengers,” he said, offering me conversation for once.
He tucked me under his arm as we left that room and turned for the other end of the lab.
“We are the best at taking relics apart.” He hooked a thumb back toward the room, “And I very much enjoyed taking that one apart.” Yeah, I had enjoyed seeing him do it.
I was very glad to see the last of that machine.
The other exit, the one I’d initially arrived through with the robot, was still a locked door.
I hadn’t been able to find a way to open it, but I hadn’t had a knife then yet.
I started to pull it from the sheath on my thigh but Zeidon was very confident as he moved for the panel and used his claws to dislodge it.
When he fidgeted with the wires inside, it was obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.
It took only a minute and the panel slid open to reveal a dark hallway beyond it.
I leaned out and looked in either direction while I racked my brain to recall from where we’d come.
For the life of me, I couldn’t remember.
Zeidon contemplated the dark along with me and when I shrugged he inhaled deeply and flicked out his tongue.
He was sifting through scents, but I wasn’t sure if that was what ultimately made him decide to lead us to the left.
“Something is happening,” he said while he pulled a small light source from a pouch on his belt.
It was a tiny flashlight that flicked on with a press of his thumb, another piece of technology that he was casual about using in contrast with his stone knives.
My eyes went to the trident he held in his hand, that one was definitely made of metal and it looked old, with scratches that marred the surface.
“What?” I asked him, unsure what he meant.
He was urging me to go at a greater speed with the palm of his hand pressed to the small of my back.
His expression had gone tense and dark, and I could hear a soft whispering noise; the scales along his flesh rattling with his unease.
He was freaking me out, what was it he sensed that I couldn’t?