“Speaking of things I never needed to see again,” Hogg muttered. Over his shoulder he called, “Get the shovels up here. The master and me are going after water.”
Jeshonyk, a power room technician, brought the shovels. He stepped gingerly over the discharged bush, carefully avoiding putting his foot on any of the now-flaccid strands.
Daniel had seen Jeshonyk tighten a fitting under the Tokamak, working in the full knowledge that a slip wouldn’t leave his mates so much as a pinch of ash to bury. He’d been wholly unconcerned by that risk, but the notion of a plant that shot bullets bothered him. It’s all a matter of what you’re used to. . . .
Hogg handed Jeshonyk the impeller in exchange for shovels, then got to work with Daniel from opposite sides of the plug. Daniel could’ve passed the job off to one of the crewmen, but he probably had more experience with shovels than any of them did. It brought back memories of his boyhood, digging out Black-Scaled Rooters with Hogg.
You could lose your foot at the ankle from a rooter’s teeth if you weren’t quick. Daniel remembered that too.
He hit rock; he moved out a hand’s breadth and put the blade in again, using all the strength of his upper body. This time it sank halfway and he stamped it fully in with the heel of his right boot.
He exchanged glances with Hogg, then both levered their shovels to the right and left in unison. A slab of dense clay fell away, baring a foot of the plug. It tapered to both ends and was wedged with smaller stones from within the burrow.
“I’ll pull out the rock,” Daniel said, thrusting the shovel into the ground beside him where it would be out of the way. “You be ready if anything decides to come out with it.”
Hogg’s lips pursed in consideration. “Right,” he said. “Jeshonyk, I believe I’ll take the gun back.”
Daniel took the plug in both hands and wriggled it. The block weighed well over a hundred pounds, but nothing beyond its mass bound it into place from this side now that they’d dug the bank away.
Daniel drew back, gasping with controlled effort. Rotating his body he half lifted, half flung the plug into the brush behind him. As smoothly as if the same cam controlled him and his master, Hogg thrust the muzzle of the impeller into the hole—not to shoot, at least not instantly, but to physically prevent anything that tried to leap out.
Nothing did. The opening was lined with rock slabs. They weren’t mortared into place, but they certainly weren’t a natural occurrence. Distinct patches of light showed in the interior.
“Sir,” said Sentino. She’d drawn her knife; with her left hand she unlatched her equipment belt and let it curl to the ground beside her. “I’ll fit.”
Daniel frowned. “Yes, all right,” he said. He locked his visor down so that he could look into the burrow under light enhancement. “Barnes, Dasi. As soon as Sentino is clear, you’ll start prying these blocks out so that a larger person—”
He patted his belly deliberately.
“—can get through the opening. And Sun, I’ll take the other impeller, please.”
“Sir,” said the gunner’s mate. He handed Daniel the weapon.
When Daniel used that tone, nobody argued—even if they fancied their own marksmanship beyond what they thought their captain was up to. Daniel had more real out-in-the-woods experience than any of the spacers, and he trusted himself not to shoot more than he did Sun or even Hogg.
He grinned at Sentino. “Go ahead,” he said. “And Jeshonyk, you’re probably the next thinnest. Take your gear off and get ready to pull Sentino back by the ankles if she gets stuck.”
“Stuck!” Sentino sneered. She squirmed into the opening with as little difficulty as the creature from the night before had shown when it escaped. In truth, there wasn’t much difference in weight, and the spacer had more of hers in her legs and arms.
Her boots disappeared down the tunnel. Barnes and Dasi lunged into their work, chopping the shovel blades into the bank and ripping away the dirt. They were used to working together. Even though this task wasn’t a familiar one, they didn’t get in each other’s way.