But orders apparently came down from on high, which overrode the pressing instinctive need to see to the grubs. Chip and Ginny were prodded to their feet by hard but fairly harmless palps, and herded along. They were pushed down the newly-chewed passage.
The wall through which the diggers had burst, Chip noticed, looked just the same as all the other walls. It was obviously a hidden hard plug the Magh’ had in the tower wall. In one place there was a crack in the tunnel through which fine sand was still seeping. It should have been obvious, thought Chip. Of course they would have a way in for just such an emergency as the tunnel to the brood-heart being dropped.
At the head of the passage waited a troop of seventy scorps. Obviously, ordinary Maggots didn’t go into the brood chamber.
Chip thought that they’d die right there. But the scorps parted to allow them to walk forward into the middle of the warriors. Then they found themselves forced to walk up. And up. Past Maggots clearing blast damage with Maggotlike efficiency. Then they stopped. By the time Chip and Ginny realized that they’d stopped because the scorps needed to reoxygenate, another troop had arrived.
Chip’s legs wished they’d been given a chance to reoxygenate too. He’d not realized there could be anything worse than abseiling down this lot . . . until he had been forced to walk back up it. He didn’t have the breath to talk. A glance showed him that Ginny was in an even worse state. Limping. Panting.
The Maggots kept them separated. He couldn’t even get close to her to give her an arm. A quivering sting menaced him when he tried.
And then they came to the level with the bridge to the tower. Here they had to wait, and could at last catch their breath. Another party was coming across the newly rebuilt narrow tracery of spars.
“Professor!” Ginny shrieked in delight.
The Korozhet, bold as brass, and a lot more red and prickly, spined along calmly between an escort of Maggots.
Chip noticed that while the Magh’ pressed close to Ginny and himself, they kept their distance from that damn Crotchet.
“My dear Virginia!” exclaimed the Korozhet. “I am so relieved to see you safe and well. I was just on my way to try to rescue you! I have negotiated your release into my custody. You will be safe, Virginia, safe!”
* * ** * *
Her mind was at war, fighting a terrible internal battle. She’d been so glad to see him. Relieved and happy. And then, unbidden, had come the questions. Her mind, or something in her mind, said that the questions were wrong, impossible. Yet they kept recurring, recurring.
But if the Professor could get them out of here . . .
“Can you get Chip and me free, Professor?” she asked.
“Yes, Virginia. I have used my status as a fellow exoskeletonite to convince the Magh’ that we are just civilians caught up in the tide of war. Innocent bystanders. That you were lead astray by evil companions.”
She shouldn’t have laughed . . . but after what they’d done, at his urging! “So Chip and I can go?” she said incredulously. “But you were . . .”
The Korozhet clacked its spines. “Alas, the other human is a combatant. A prisoner of war. He will have to remain. I have begged for clemency for him, of course. The Magh’ have assured me he will be kept prisoner under the most gentle of conditions, given the best of slops . . .”
“Ah, bullshit, Pricklepuss,” sneered Chip.
It might still have gone differently if the Professor hadn’t been advancing and Magh’ hadn’t stood aside. That had allowed Chip to move next her. To put a gentle hand on her shoulder. And to allow her to loop an arm around his waist.
“Virginia, cease clinging to the human and come with me!” ordered the Korozhet. “It is a troublemaker. A lower life-form, one of those Vat-bred creatures.”
She looked at the red, spiny alien. She couldn’t bring herself to say “No.” But she shook her head and clung more tightly to Chip.