Subterranean (52 page)

Ashley knelt next to Ben. “He saved my boy's life.”

“Yes,” Harry said. “Jason got a good knock on the head. Blacked out for a few seconds, but he's fine. Linda took him—”

“Mom!”

Ashley whirled to face the building. Jason stood in the blasted opening, a bandage wrapped over his forehead. “Jason!”

She stood up and ran to him. They collapsed into each other's arms. “Oh, honey, I'm so sorry.” She hugged him hard to her chest.

“I love you, Mom.”

She just held him, rocking him in her arms.

Ben pointed to the large carcass. “I thought I had killed that bloody beast.”

“Apparently it had a hide as thick as yours,” Harry said.

Linda then stepped through the doorway, a smile on her face. Jason saw her and wiggled out of Ashley's arms. He wiped at his nose and straightened his bandage, obviously embarrassed at such a childish display of motherly attention.

Ashley smiled. Was he already that old?

Harry suddenly called out, “Look!” He jabbed a finger toward the roof.

She stood up and joined the others, staring at where Harry pointed.

Lights, pirouetting downward.

In the feeble glow of a few remaining spotlights, ballooning parachutes drifted downward. As she watched, more and more chutes flared open from the top of the skeletal elevator shaft. The chutists each had a halogen light, which they waved to and fro as they descended. Within minutes there seemed to be hundreds of them, drifting in all directions to cover the entire base.

Like fireflies on a warm spring night.

“Who are they?” Jason asked.

“I believe that's the cavalry coming over the hill.” Harry said.

Ben snorted. “About bloody time!”

Mount Erebus, Antarctica

B
EN CRAWLED INTO BED, SIGHING
. W
HAT A DAY
! H
E
snuggled next to Ashley. She moaned in her sleep and rolled onto her side. He placed his hand on her belly. She was already showing. Four months along, and not a sign that she was ready to cut back on her cultural study of the
mimi'swee
. Knowing her, she would wait until her water broke before finally putting pen and paper down.

He smiled in the darkness and lay back with an arm propping his head, staring at the ceiling. Alpha Base had almost been put back together again. The sonic repellents that Linda had developed were succeeding in keeping the
crak'an
away. Her team of biologists had also made another discovery: The erosion of the
mimi'swee
's ring of protective fungus had not been due to the imbalance of
umbo
and
ohna
, as Mo'amba had claimed, but rather to the introduction of and competition from a modern fungus, carried here by humans. So Sin'jari had been right after all—humans
were
to blame. At least indirectly.

Ben let out a rattling sigh and stretched, bone-tired. As
heri'huti
, his responsibilities with the tribe seemed endless. No wonder Mo'amba had wanted to pass the baton on to him. Still, in memory of the old man, he felt an obligation to carry on the position. At least until the tiny
mimi'swee
offspring gifted with
heri'huti
blood grew to maturity. Ben had overseen the hatching of the child, another of his duties. The child, who had been named Tu'shama by Mo'amba before his death, was a girl, the first female
heri'huti
of the tribe. Her gender had shocked the community, but Ben didn't care. Male or female, here was his replacement!

Ben wiggled deeper under the blankets. He really shouldn't complain. The job did have its perks. In his spare time, he could explore the vast trails of caverns. The hunters who traveled the dark paths showed him sights so wondrous that he sometimes thought he was dreaming.

Even if it was while collecting
crak'an
dung.

Ben closed his eyes. Morning would come too soon. He rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around Ashley's waist.

As he drifted into slumber, something touched his dreams. Weak and tentative. Someone calling to him.

He opened himself up, inviting, but the contact faded. Only a passing connection, like a warm breeze wafting across a cold cheek.

Then nothing.

Who?

Under his hand, he felt the baby move in Ashley's belly. And Ben remembered Mo'amba's words: “Blood runs true.”

There are too many folks to thank for the production of this story. From Pesha Rubinstein, my literary agent, who saw some glimmer in the rough-cut draft; to Lyssa Keusch, my editor, who painstakingly polished this story into its current form; to my writing group, who arduously picked apart the plot and made it better (Chris Crowe, Dennis Grayson, Dave Meek, Jeffrey Moss, Jane O'Riva, Stephen and Judy Prey, Caroline Williams); and a special thanks to Carolyn McCray, for her support, criticism, love, and friendship.

And finally to two people for whom I must blame this all on: Thanks, Mom and Dad!

James Rollins
is the bestselling author of five previous novels:
Subterranean, Excavation, Deep Fathom, Amazonia,
and
Ice Hunt
. He has a doctorate in veterinary medicine and his own practice in Sacramento, California. An amateur spelunker and a certified scuba enthusiast, he can often be found either underground or underwater.

Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

Subterranean
Excavation
Deep Fathom,
Amazonia
Ice Hunt
Sandstorm

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

SUBTERRANEAN
. Copyright © 1999 by Jim Czajkowski.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

EPub © Edition JUNE 2004 ISBN: 9780061754968

First Avon Books paperback printing: June 1999
First Avon Books special printing: January 1999

FIRST EDITION

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

20  19  18  17  16  15  14

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