Four Softskins evoked a sense of wrongness. Small, shorter than the compact and small Tigfy, with brittle nails, weak eyesight, smooth, sickeningly vulnerable and fragile curves of their bodies. Their faces contorted in grimaces, nothing like the beautiful expressions from the book, but Draa dismissed this as a consequence of fear. Everything about them—from their tanned, scar-sparse skin to their thin limbs—screamed of an inability to survive, of unfitness for existence in the beautiful world.
Nevertheless, their kind thrived, and Draa hoped one day to learn their language, to discover the reasons for the hostility between the two groups and perhaps find friends among them. But first, escape.
In response to his words, three of the Softskins burst into a stream of melodic sounds, likely signifying questions. The females—Draa assumed this based on the presence of breasts—shielded the fourth, a stocky female whose eyes were wrapped in a layer of fabric. Small wet dots glistened on the bandage.
"I treated the torn eye sockets." Tigfy shrugged in response to his questioning look. "She can walk, but her head's a bit foggy right now from the pain-numbing herbs."
"You don't know their language?" Draa whispered.
"I thought you knew!" Tigfy pulled back her lips, revealing a jumble of unevenly spaced fangs, partially coated in yellow with a few black spots and occasional chips. "Don't tell me you decided to rescue them without having any idea how to communicate with them!"
"Everything is accounted for," Draa assured her.
He pointed a finger at the taller Softskin. Then he extended his hand, palm up, and closed and opened it, beckoning the female closer. She complied, warily stepping into the edge of the green light seeping into the chamber, and Draa handed her the written-upon sheet of paper—prepared by Dad.
Brown eyes scanned it, her pale lips compressed with determination, and the female nodded, throwing several pleasant-sounding phrases to the others. Draa felt a twinge of envy. Why couldn't his coarse, growling voice produce such gentleness? Questions for later, you idiot! he reminded himself. Pressing his fingers to his lips, he led the five girls toward a corridor intersection. In the distance, the unconscious Gaur rasped out breaths, vomiting fragments of fangs and viscous blood with each exhale.
Tigfy clung to the blinded female, startling the Softskins. Their fear filled the corridor, palpable in their increased perspiration and nervous muscle twitches. But when they realized the Malformed was carefully guiding the wounded, steering her away from the protruding sharp edges on the walls, the Softskins accepted the help.
Draa counted a hundred steps from the stairs leading upward, drew drops of blood from his mouth, and splattered them into each corridor. Then he wiped the floor with his palm. As Dad had told him, beneath the layer of grime and dried blood lay a hatch. The tall female chirped, pointing in surprise at the outline of a dark star marked with bright dots, and Draa had to place his hand over her mouth, reminding her through a pang of fear of their situation.
Why would that old drawing be important?
His fingers found the seams of the hatch, sliding the heavy lid to the right. Breathing heavily from the effort, Draa persistently wedged his fingers into the widening gap until he gripped the metal and, with a sharp motion, opened a path to the corridor below. Pale lighting illuminated the dust-crumbled remains of an ancient inhabitant, recognizable only by his sturdy suit.
Luck! Draa grinned broadly. He noticed Tigfy's glance at the fallen guard.
"Tigfy, down. Help the females land."
"You can do it yourself." Their green-red eyes met.
"Someone needs to hold the hatch," Draa said casually, pretending the sheet of metal might slip out.
"Doesn't look like you're planning to abandon us by sealing us in the tunnel." Tigfy saw through his ruse instantly. "What's your problem?"
"No one dies today."
"Debatable. We might, if he raises the alarm. Knowing Raoul, we'll be doing Gaur a favor by ending it quickly..."
"No," Draa cut her off, unwilling to hear justifications for committing the irreversible. "His fate belongs to the choices he made. I refuse to let him stain me, make me a murderer, and I won't let you slide down that path either. He's not worth it, Tigfy. We're better than him. Now, if you don't want us to be found, move your haunches faster."
"Naive. So naive. What do you even know about me? Your stubbornness could cost us all dearly..." Tigfy muttered, jumping down. She landed on straight legs and raised her arms.
Two of the females didn't understand the girl's intent and jumped together, nearly toppling the desperately lurching Tigfy as she caught them. In response to Draa's eye-roll, she showed him a thumb pressed to her cheek—an insulting gesture, inviting copulation between two male Malformed. The third, tall female showed greater intelligence. First she lowered the wounded one, then jumped down herself.
Draa turned his snout toward the edge of the hatch and dove down, not letting go of the rim. He swung, finding the ceiling with his feet, and with effort shoved the metal shut, plunging the group into darkness. Relying on his sense of smell, he splashed more blood into the opposite passage and led the children forward. A lump of long legs with a beak mounted at the front stirred in a crack, awakened by the Softskins’ scent. Draa seized the creature before it could bite the females and devoured it whole.
Tapping the wall with a bone knuckle, he discovered a door. Draa gripped the circular wheel with both hands and turned it left, opening a passage into a room filled with flickering blue light. A strange gear spun in the corner, repeating meaningless movements for who knew how many years. An unusual sensation nipped at Draa's hide—he experienced cold for the first time.
The females hesitated, but he eagerly pointed his fingers toward the heavy suits hanging from the crossbars. The Softskins understood his idea and hurried to gather the clothing, replacing their rags with the dense material that covered their bodies completely.
"How do you know the layout?" Tigfy inquired.
"Ha-ha, the chieftain once decided to map the Nest. He gathered Dad, warriors, and set out to comb every tunnel, marking the passages between chambers and the ways to get in or exit. I was lucky enough to find a copy of that map." Draa smirked.
"That explains your old man's scent marks in the underground." Tigfy scratched her nose. "Now I get why you're leaving blood. You want to throw pursuers off our trail. But..." Her eyes narrowed. "Not knowing the language, you couldn't have written that note. William planned our escape."
"I..." Draa faltered, cursing his talkativeness.
"Fret not. I feel calmer knowing someone with brains is responsible for our safety."
"I have brains!"
"I don't mean the presence of gray matter, but rather its proper application," Tigfy snorted. "Alright, big guy, why are they putting on that ancient fabric?"
"These are spacesuits," Draa repeated the unfamiliar word syllable by syllable, pleased at the chance to show off his knowledge. "They're elastic; go ahead and try—you won't pierce them with a claw. But their masks are even better! They fit tightly to the face and won't let anything touch them."
"Excellent, so we won't have to worry about insects." Tigfy nodded and glanced at his face. "Hey..."
"Right! Softskins get sick easily, and they can't handle acid at all. The shortest way out is through the lake—they'd die there in seconds for sure."
"But with the right gear..." Tigfy whistled. "Consider me impressed. I'm definitely going to learn everything about Softskins from William. Seems they have lots of useful toys."
"Just keep in mind, Dad is married," Draa warned.
"Eat nothing but mushrooms your whole life," Tigfy snapped, offended for some reason. She moved aside and began poking a claw at the hanging suit, squeaking in admiration at the material's toughness.
The tall female turned at the sound, and Draa was sure the girl smiled gratefully. She pressed her palms together, thumbs pointing at herself, and uttered an unknown phrase. Then she continued helping the wounded female. Draa grunted approvingly. Two females suddenly stepped in front of him, blocking his view.
"What do they want?" Draa wondered.
"They don't like you staring," Tigfy replied, playing with a sleeve. "Think your head's full of lewd thoughts."
"Nonsense," said Draa. "They're fragile and small. You couldn't produce decent offspring with those."
"Just... turn away. I'll watch over them."
The spacesuits were too large for the freed captives, with dangling folds forming on their limbs, but most importantly, the skull-shaped masks with transparent faceplates sealed tightly against the Softskins' faces, and there were no gaps in the clothing. Draa led the group further, through an area littered with torn sheets of metal and broken objects resembling beds with many buttons and darkened mirrors. He had no idea what this could have been used for.
Years had not dulled the jagged edges of unknown steel, but it merely slid along the outer surface of the spacesuits, and the worst of what happened was the blind female's leg caught in a crack. Tigfy, bringing up the rear, helped her free it, and at that same second an oblong beetle buzzed out of the crack. Its stinger struck the mask, bouncing off the transparent part. With a swipe of her claws, Tigfy sliced the insect to pieces.
"You alright?" Draa shouted from atop a pile of twisted beams, hauling the first female up.
"Not my first scrap, brave defender." Green dots gleamed in the darkness.
"Cool. Don't leave any..."
"Not a bite," Tigfy replied, mouth full. "I know how to cover tracks. I'll lick it all up, relax."
"For a walking bundle of sticks, you're doing great!" Draa teased, earning a hiss in response.
Trading barbs, the Malformed led the Softskins to the lake located beneath the dump. Draa had only a general idea of this place and wasn't surprised when the females trembled, stopping at the precipice after he pulled away the debris blocking a door shredded years ago.
In a hall a kilometer long and roughly as wide, bubbling brown sludge sloshed, filling everything around with a vile stench. Broken canisters lined the walls, still spewing fresh sewage into the poisoned lake. Liquid drained into depressions in the floor, around which small whirlpools spun, and entered the canisters through branching pipes extending into the crumpled ceiling.
Draa inhaled deeply, convinced of the wisdom of Dad's words. Acidic fumes stung his throat, and Tigfy wrinkled her nose, adjusting to the toxic atmosphere. The females, especially the wounded one, would have lost consciousness and died within seconds if not for the spacesuits.
"It took us about an hour to get here," Draa said. Tigfy nodded in agreement. "So he already knows, and they're looking for us. We won't linger."
He approached the blind girl and seated her on his shoulders, taking two females by the arms. They tried to pull away but soon calmed upon hearing Tigfy's purring.
"Sounds sweet."
"You can stop trying to carry everything yourself." She ignored the compliment, taking the last Softskin in her arms. "We need you strong in case of a fight. I can easily carry two."
"But then how will I tell everyone a Softskin rode on me?" Draa protested feignedly. He dropped the lightheartedness. "Seriously, I don't want to take risks. Tigfy, no matter what happens, make it to the opposite entrance. I have a trick for dealing with possible pursuit."
"Hm. Fine, I trust you. But when we get out, no more secrets. I hate omissions." Tigfy spat. "And wet fur. La-la, wonderful day."
"Of course it's wonderful. We've become friends!"
Draa splashed into the sludge up to his knees, holding his precious cargo above the surface. The mask filters Dad had warned him about were working, and the Softskins didn't suffocate, though they chirped, drawing their legs up in panic. He strode with wide steps, stubbornly pushing through the brown filth, aiming for the broken ledge leading to the entrance of another section. Tigfy followed, cursing with every step.
What worried him most was some kind of underwater predator, but it seemed nothing inhabited the forgotten lake. They were halfway across, fighting currents that tried to drag them toward the pits, when squeals and roars reached them. Pursuers were scattering piles of debris in the previous hall. Draa heard the slap of palms on metal and the groan of bending and tearing objects. Right now, sensitive noses were sniffing every corner, growling and getting confused by the ancient scent marks and deliberately scattered blood trails. The senior guards, enraged, were breaking everything that fell under their paws, creating chaos in the search and arguing over the correct direction of the hunt, eager to earn favor and further increasing the chaos.
Yes, that's right. What if we hid there? Turn everything over; you can't report back to him that you didn't search. Don't move on so fast.
The noise grew louder. Scouts’ legs pounded within the walls, trampling scattering insects. Draa led the group to a protruding platform at the other end of the hall and hoisted the females up, gripping the beams with his hands and pulling himself up so they could lift the wounded one from his shoulders. Then he unceremoniously grabbed Tigfy by the shoulder, hurling her upward, and then he heard an ear-splitting howl. An eyeless scout leaped into the acid lake, emitting a narrow-focused stream of sound that sliced through the brown surface and slammed forcefully into the platform support to the left of Draa, denting it. The scout raced toward the children, balancing on his long legs, and screamed again, once more carving a line on the lake's surface with his voice.
Draa's heart beat faster. More figures emerged from the darkness of the entrance, brandishing blades and claws. In their haste, they collided in the doorway, creating a jam.
"Don't be scared," Tigfy barked from above, leaning over the platform to her waist. Her paws gripped Draa's wrists. "He's not trying to catch us."
After the wave of sound spread to Draa's right, he realized with surprise that his friend's words rang true. The scouts were fast, their sonic streams cutting through both steel and bone, mercilessly bursting eyes and grinding fangs to dust on impact. They never missed. But the one pursuing them had barely taken six steps and was feigning bloodthirst rather than hunting the children.
Thank you. We will not abuse your mercy. Draa softened his opinion of the guards, no longer considering them soulless beasts. It seemed not all agreed with the chieftain's methods.
More hands joined Tigfy's grip. The Softskin girls helped Draa climb up. He reached the top of the platform just as the crush at the entrance spilled out into a torrent of clicking, hissing, and cursing bodies pouring into the lake. Without wasting time, Draa shoved the girls inside the passage, stomped three times on the floor, and rolled in.
Behind him, a multi-meter door slammed down with a crash, and the light flickered in the rectangular chamber where they now found themselves.
"How in…?" Tigfy's mouth fell open. She looked at the thick bars of a grating to the right, at a shaft receding upward, and the smooth walls around. "We're trapped!"
"No." The girl glanced at him. "Noticed how the door closed by itself? My..."
From the other side of the grating, in a separate chamber, a green muzzle with a swollen nose appeared, hissing through her fangs.
"Vyfka," Draa said, stunned.
"I'm not yours, cattle!" the girl rasped nasally.
Tigfy let out a hysterical giggle.
"What are you doing here?!" Draa demanded.
"I'd like to know that too."
A pincer pierced the darkness, trapping Vyfka's neck. The girl, tense, turned back to where Eshtu's neck and head emerged, dangling from the ceiling. The boy's body itself wasn't visible, but the stinger of his tail touched the girl's crown in silent threat.
"Why are you here?!" Draa howled. "You're supposed to be safe!"
"Whom I owe, I forgive all. Hi everyone, let's skip the names," his friend requested. A barrage of blows rained upon the door. The Softskins hid behind Tigfy, but the barrier held. "I noticed her chatting with your father, then he ended up among the chieftain's guards, and she headed into the tunnels. Such strange behavior piqued my interest, and I followed her, finding her playing with levers."
"You'd know what I was doing here if you hadn't gotten stuck with your sister." Bubbling poison appeared on Vyfka’s lips.
"Is that true?" Draa asked.
"Well... I might have missed the meeting time..." Eshtu faltered. "But this viper is suspicious! She was always picking on everyone and acting like a guard."
"Idiot." Vyfka jerked her head, cutting her neck. The pincer loosened, giving her more room. "You didn't catch me. Even now I could easily finish you off." She took a deep breath, furiously scratching her arm. "I just don't want to. I scared all the little ones for their own good."
"Sure," Draa drawled.
"She actually believes that," said Tigfy.
"Think what you want. Through fear, I've saved more lives than you, bonehead!" A drop of poison flew through the grating and landed at Draa's feet. "The plan changed. The chieftain found out about your quarrel and decided to honor your daddy by tearing you apart in front of him, or however he amuses himself. He managed to explain to me how to get here and replace him." She examined the levers before her with disgust. "Heresy. A normal person shouldn't touch soulless technology. It leads to death."
"Well, right now it saved us," said Tigfy.
"Uh-huh. And the deserts around here just appeared on their own." Vyfka grimaced. "Just because an arachnid eats the Insectoids chasing you doesn't mean that maneuver will work every time. Sooner or later you'll end up the creature's prey."
"So you were trying to help," Eshtu said, disappointed, releasing her.
"What do you mean, 'trying'? I saved their asses!"
"Well, thank you very much!" Draa bowed. Vyfka froze, eyebrows raised high. "Can't waste time. You can meet the Softskins later..."
"I don't want to associate with freaks..."
"But right now we need to get out of here! Can you get out on your own?"
"Don't worry about us; I'll ride her somewhere safe," Eshtu assured him, withdrawing his stinger from Vyfka's face. "Gotta repay my debt. As for the levers, though… Eh?"
Vyfka pressed her lips together, and a twinge of doubt touched Draa. She doesn't remember. A heap of levers and buttons lay before the girl; she timidly raised a trembling paw, approaching the gray lever, and then suddenly the tall Softskin darted forward. She chirped, pointing her fingers at the buttons on the console in front of Vyfka. Strangely, the Malformed nodded, accepting the advice, and slapped her palm on a button before pulling the lever.
The floor lurched and began to rise smoothly. Draa dropped to his knees, completely taken by surprise. Vyfka and Eshtu soon disappeared from view; the partition separating them from their pursuers sank down, and they ascended the shaft, marked with familiar dark star symbols. Their journey was relatively brief. The floor picked up speed, carrying them toward the surface, and soon Draa caught the familiar scents of Insectoids. The floor brought them to a long, sloping corridor leading upward, and Draa sighed in relief, looking around.
Insectoid drones lay about in disarray, crushed or smeared against the walls. The carcass of an Insectoid warrior sat to the left of the risen platform. Where its head should have been gaped a huge dent left by a foot. Mom and the others were here, having secured safety for the fugitives, as promised. Tigfy looked at his face and chuckled, beckoning the girls forward.
Freedom! They'd done it!
Draa headed forward, leading the group through a wide corridor filled with motionless rectangles. These were machines of the Ancients—sleek, despite their age, and sturdy. Wiping away a layer of dust with his finger, he saw a beautiful light-blue color. How they could move, he didn't know. Not one had legs or even round wheels, like the Softskins' boxes. The door of one machine was open, and inside hung a partially decayed skeleton, grinning at the group with its upper jaw.
"Is that possible?" Tigfy wondered.
"What are you talking about?" asked Draa.
She pointed her finger at the jaw and then at the Softskins.
"Once, we were all Softskins. Raoul told me that. I dared not believe it then, but he didn't beat me; he brought me a photo as proof. Softskins come in different sizes, but rarely does any of them grow over two meters," Tigfy explained. "This jaw belongs to a much larger individual."
"Maybe it's a freak?" Draa said doubtfully.
Approaching the mummified corpse, he examined the enlarged bones, resistant to decay, and found the lower jaw on the seat. Strange wires dangled from the ancient's skull, connected to a mechanical plate, and the buttons and levers were perfectly sized for the skeleton's hands. In life, he must have been a giant, no smaller than the chieftain. Even now, he seemed capable of rising and snapping an insolent one in two. The spacesuit bore an inscription: "Assault Unit JC-0389."
Draa shrugged, wishing the man peaceful sleep, and moved on, thinking about how everything must have looked here in the past. Was there light here? Did the Ancients have friends and loved ones? How did the peoples of today differ from those who built such impressive monuments? And why were all the structures buried so deep? So many questions, and not a single answer left to be found.
They raced up the tunnel, encountering no predators and hearing no pursuers. The activated ancient mechanism had taken the guards completely by surprise. Draa didn't let euphoria seize him and held back his joy. But a narrow strip of trickling yellow ahead encouraged him, and he ran, reaching the narrowing section of the tunnel. Finding a half-buried hatch, Draa opened it, plunging into a pleasant, hot stream of sand. As soon as the flow subsided, he climbed onto the surface, finding himself near protruding metal posts. The exit was in a nook of rock formations, leading directly toward the direction of the platform. The first rays of the morning sun cut through the darkness, chasing the blue tint from the land.
"Yes!" he exclaimed, helping the first Softskin out. Then the second, then the rest, and finally he swept the emerging Tigfy into his arms, kissing the top of her head in an excess of emotion. The anxiety of needing to protect everyone receded. "We did it..."
Tigfy's eyes, shining with happiness, suddenly changed. Draa stared at her, feeling a gust of wind carrying scents. The sun rose higher, the girls squeaked, and the shadows of hundreds of figures stretched out, falling upon the group. Malformed stood silently on the stone ridge, and among them waited William, breathing slowly.
But it wasn't he who frightened Draa.
"Bravo, bravo!" Heavy palms clapped, chilling the children's souls. Green-and-red eyes gleamed mockingly upon the rocks. "A magnificent performance. Encore!"
"H-how?" Draa was taken aback, lowering his gaze to the base of the rocks.
The chieftain... He's here!
"It's your predictability that's to blame. When I found your blood in three different tunnels in the dungeon and then discovered another trail in the passage beneath it, your pathetic ruse became immediately clear to me. Out of curiosity, I counted the spacesuits—I take it the information that I keep inventory of my domain comes as a surprise to you? After that, everything became simple."
Something pink was falling onto the sand. Draa looked up. The wind carried feathers away from the chieftain's open palm.
"Yes, yes, perhaps William's lapse in your upbringing led to your discord, but I knew you were exchanging words with the trader. Don't blame the old man—he didn't want to say anything about you, but I proved persuasive." The grinning mouth with fangs longer than Draa's fingers greeted the boy's exhale. "Don't worry about him. Paarfu is useful, so I limited myself to a lesson. From him, I learned of your interest in the anomalous activity of the slab. After that, everything was trivial. Correlating the exits from the underground, I understood where you were headed." He yawned. "Gentlemen, ladies, as I've always said. Hunt smarter, not harder."
A wall of laughter struck the fugitives. The guards were merry, mocking the fugitives' pitiful attempts to escape. Tigfy stood with her head hung low; the Softskins huddled together, understanding the futility of trying to flee.
I... I just sat there, doing nothing. Disappointment and old pain pulsed in Draa's head. Father looked over their heads, and he thanked him for not sacrificing himself for nothing. When he visited Mom, when he hurt others... I did nothing. I'm tired. So tired of this slumber.
No one could stop the chieftain. It was madness even to try.
"There, there, don't hang your nose, Draa. Don't think your amusing entertainment hasn't been duly appreciated..."
Draa looked at him, clenching his fists. His finger pricked, and the veil of horror lifted. Raoul lounged on the heated stones, propping his head with his right fist. His scales glistened in the morning sun, his leathery hood folded over ridges on his head, giving it a flattened appearance. Muscles played beneath his flawless hide; each breath came easily and effortlessly.
"Your gaze," Raoul whispered, raising his fist. The merriment stopped. "Why do you have such a charmingly bloodthirsty look, Draa?"
The chieftain vanished. His stone resting place exploded in a spray of splintered boulders, and less than a second later, the sand before Draa burst apart, displaced by a landing mass, and the rising wave knocked the Softskin girls off their feet. Tigfy remained standing, staring at her feet. Raoul straightened to his full height, looming over the boy.
"I like your attitude," he said. "Tigfy, you've found yourself a real suitor. Let's see how far your newfound resolve carries you."