Anya gave her a confused stare, but Cora turned away.

“Let’s go,” Cora said to Bonebreak, trying to sound confident. But the truth was, as much as Anya warned her about Willa, Cora couldn’t help the feeling that Anya was the real wild card. Those Kindred drugs, somehow, had made her more unpredictable. And right now, Cora needed people she could count on—even if that meant only herself.

17

Cora

CORA PULLED OFF THE goggles and let sunlight bathe her face. It was a gorgeous day on Drogane’s surface, warm and breezy with just a hint of storm clo

uds on the horizon.

“I’ve missed the sun,” she said.

Bonebreak climbed to the top of the tunnel and tilted his head toward the blue sky. “Sunlight?” He shrugged. “Overrated. Come on.”

He pointed toward a path that led over a small rise into the valley. The path seemed to be made of crushed stone and shells cemented together, with deep grooves every few inches like tire tracks. “We seldom walk on the surface,” Bonebreak explained, lumbering in the typical skittish Mosca walk. “We prefer to take rover spheres when we must travel aboveground. They run on these tracks.”

Cora had noticed a row of tank-sized spheres in the underground travel hub they’d passed through before taking the tunnel to the surface. “Why didn’t we take one, then?”

“The rover spheres and their destinations are logged. It’s against the rules to see the Gauntlet before it begins. And last I checked, we were sneaking up here covertly.”

Cora swept her hands out toward the open valley. “This is sneaking around? We’re completely exposed. Anyone could see us.”

“No one else would be foolish enough to come up here with that storm approaching.” He pointed toward the end of the valley, where the storm clouds were moving in, a smear of heavy gray. “We won’t have long to look over the modules. We have to be back underground before it hits.”

They continued walking along the track. The valley reminded Cora of something from Colorado or Montana, tall mountains with trees clinging to the sides, vegetation hardy enough to withstand the planet’s frequent storms.

As they crested the rise, the lower part of the valley unfurled, revealing metallic pieces of a structure like the craggy ruins of a small town: about twenty modules of varying size—some as big as giant industrial shipping containers, others as tiny as a closet. They were coated in gray metal siding that glinted, reflecting the storm clouds overhead. A car-sized module suddenly lurched to the left.

“They’re moving!” Cora said. “I thought you said we were alone.”

“We are.” Bonebreak nodded toward the valley. “They’re self-directed. The module arrives and builds itself. That, little childs, is the Gauntlet.”

Cora watched in fascination as robotic arms and levers slowly inched the modules closer to one another. Panels mechanically opened and expanded into different shapes. The entire structure was about the size of the Bay Pines detention facility: smaller than she would have thought, but she supposed the Gauntlet didn’t need much room, as it mostly worked with optical illusions.

Bonebreak pointed a stubby finger toward the various structures. “The two biggest modules interlock with each other to form a large central vestibule. The other modules are the recess rooms and control compartments. And those twelve modules of identical size are the puzzle chambers.”

“That’s what all this trouble is about,” Cora said, studying it. “What divides free species from captive ones. Just a few pieces of machinery.”

“Highly intelligent machinery,” Bonebreak clarified. “The Gauntlet is an autonomous structure, built from Axion and Gatherer technology, capable of operating its own systems. It is run by the stock algorithm—an evolved computer program. Its protocol cannot be influenced by any outside species, not even its creators.”

The two largest modules began to unfold themselves. The edges were cut into uneven shapes like puzzle pieces, which slowly moved together to form one large room. Nearby, small mechanical arms scraped up dirt and rock like bulldozers and deposited the debris deep within the control compartment modules.

“What are those arms doing?” she asked.

“The Gauntlet requires natural resources to power the illusions in the puzzle chambers. Minerals, water, air, sand. Basic materials that can be obtained on almost any planet or station.” He glanced at the storm clouds at the edge of the valley as though judging their distance. “Come. We can take a closer look, but we must not dawdle.”

He started down the path to the valley floor. His twisted legs didn’t handle the steep angle well, and he let out a volley of cursing. Now Cora understood why everything in Tern was made of spiraling ramps.

“How did the Mosca ever pass the Gauntlet’s physical puzzles if you can hardly walk down a hill?”

“We have incredible strength!” Bonebreak said in a huff. “And we’re fast when we want to be. Plus we got lucky with the puzzles. No stairs.”

As they approached the Gauntlet, the sound of grinding metal echoed up and down the valley. The closest module was shifting slowly, transforming itself from a flat panel into a cube. Already the hull had lifted and rearranged itself into what looked like a break room with benches and tables. Interior thrusters were slowly moving upward, the walls pulling in.

“How long until it’s finished transforming?”

“Two days,” Bonebreak said, which Cora translated into about six human days. He continued, “The first delegates anticipated to arrive are the Gatherers. Most boring race in the galaxy. They’ll spend their time standing as still as these mountains, meditating on something dull like the meaning of wind, or time, or fingernails, until the Gauntlet begins. After that, the Axion will come, and then the Kindred. The Mosca delegation’s already here, of course, in Tern.”

“I don’t suppose the Mosca delegates could be . . .”

“Bargained with?” Bonebreak made a noncommittal gesture with his head. “The Chief Assessor, Redrage, is exceedingly moral for a Mosca. Hence she was chosen by the Council. And besides, as I mentioned, the Gauntlet protocol cannot be tampered with. However . . .” He leaned in close. “Ironmage and I have been working on Redrage. We got her drunk last night and convinced her to include us in the delegate aide party, so we will be there to assist you. She is warming up for a bribe, I think. Already she informed us that one of the perceptive puzzles will require levitation of heavy objects.”

Cora chewed on her lip, nervous. “How heavy? I’ve just been training with dice and pebbles.”

“How should I know? Twenty kilos, forty kilos, sixty kilos. I suggest you practice while you still can. Hard.”

They continued to walk among the eerily shifting modules. It was like a living creature, able to grow and thrive on its own. Bonebreak kept glancing out toward the edge of the valley, where the clouds were darkening.

“Up we go.” Bonebreak climbed awkwardly onto a metal platform, reaching down a hand to help Cora. She ducked as one of the walls swung upward and connected with another in that puzzle-piece way.

“Stay close,” Bonebreak said. He pointed to one of the ten-by-ten-by-ten puzzle chamber modules, which was rotating itself on top of another one. “See that? The twelve puzzle chambers. And this”—he led her to the largest structure, which towered above them—“this is where the four Chief Assessors will sit at the dais and observe your progress from monitors, while the stock algorithm produces a real-time report on the puzzles.”

Cora marveled at the moving structure. Back in the Hunt, Cassian had shown her a three-dimensional holographic projection of the Gauntlet. She still remembered the tiny scale model with its twelve rooms, each a different color depending on what type of puzzle it was, and a tiny holographic figure moving from one module to the next. And now she was here. Not a scale model anymore. No longer just a dream.

She reached out and touched one of the gray metal planks moving upward.

“Careful there, little childs.” Bonebreak moved her fingers out of the way just as another plank swung down that would have crushed her hand. It met a platform that was rising from the floor. There were four small holes in the facing table.

“That was where the keys used to be,” Bonebreak said. “In previous versions of the Gauntlet, the four Chief Assessors turned four keys to signal that they approved of the Gauntlet’s results. But the loophole was brought to the stock algorithm’s attention. Now the Assessors only observe. The stock algorithm itself is the only one that approves or not.”

Cora ran her hand over the holes in the table. This was ho

w she had been planning on cheating the Gauntlet: with those keys. But now there was no way to cheat at all.

She let her hand fall away. Bonebreak continued to give her a tour of the deconstructed modules, pointing out the entrance ramp and where the recess room for the Mosca delegation would be.

Overhead, lightning suddenly cracked. The distant clouds had rolled in fast, casting half the Gauntlet in darkness.

“The storm approaches,” Bonebreak said, walking toward her quickly. “We must go. It will rage all day and into sleep-hours, I think. Do not worry about the Gauntlet. It can withstand almost anything.”

Bonebreak started to move as fast as his legs could carry him, and Cora hurried behind him. She paused at the edge of the track to glance back at the structure. The twelve modules had roughly taken shape now. A three-by-four staggered wall.

Thunder pealed, loud enough to make her clamp her hands over her ears. And then heavy, freezing sheets of rain began, and the Gauntlet was swallowed by fog as they raced back into the tunnels.

18

Leon

ON THE BOTTOM LEVEL of the aggregate station, Leon eyed the ceiling, his heartbeat thumping hard, half expecting Arrowal’s troops to bomb their way through at any moment. He’d lost count of how long they’d been trapped. It had to have been more than forty-eight hours. He was going stir-crazy, just sitting around and waiting like this. The tunnels had collapsed behind them, closing off any way for them to get to Cassian or the weapons cache in the Hunt.

He sighed. With luck, Makayla and the other kids from the Hunt were well on their way to Armstrong.

A burst of laser pulses sounded overhead and his heart thunked.

“Take cover!” Tessela called. “Everyone down! This is it—they’re almost through!”

Leon and Mali ducked into the safety of the nearest door frame. He glanced behind him—it led to a supply room stacked high with crates. He recognized it; it was where Bonebreak’s crew had stored most of their contraband. If they had to, he and Mali could hide in two of those crates and wait out the battle.

But he had a feeling both of them would rather be in the thick of it.

Tags: Megan Shepherd The Cage Science Fiction
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