Adele didn’t comment. There was no point in destroying the Tree; but if Daniel wasn’t all right, she wasn’t sure how strong a stand she’d take to prevent that happening.
“There’s a door here,” Hogg called, his voice echoing. Adele saw the rusted panel past him in the wavering light of his lamp. “Is it locked?”
“No,” said the Prior. He sounded as though he were speaking from the depths of troubled sleep. “It pulls toward you.”
Hogg paused; both his hands were full. The level surface at the bottom of the stairs was larger than the landings, but it still wouldn’t hold more than half a dozen adults. If they didn’t open the door quickly there was going to be a dangerous crush.
“I’ll get it,” Adele said, stepping past Hogg. She gripped the staple and pulled; the hinges squealed and fought her. In sudden fury, she jerked hard. Hogg strode in, his lamp held high and out to the side; she was immediately behind him, her pistol covering the right side of the room while Hogg’s big weapon lay across his body to sweep the left.
They saw the mummies against the sidewall simultaneously. Adele took two steps down the line, then started running. She didn’t know when the last time she’d run had been.
“Bloody hell!” Hogg shouted, turning to prod the Prior in the throat with his impeller. “Which one is he, you bastard? Which one?”
Daniel had to be at the far end. The line started at the door and continued without a gap. “Hogg, bring your knife!” Adele said, aware that her voice was shriller than usual.
“Don’t cut it, use the saline solution!” the Prior wheezed. “The salt will make the roots release without damage. Please!”
Adele reached the last figure in the line. The nametape on the left breast of Daniel’s uniform was visible, but swathes of hair-fine rootlets covered his head and hands. Adele felt dizzy; she bent forward, thinking for a moment that she might have to put her head between her legs to keep from fainting. Half a dozen Sissies ran up beside her.
“Bloody hell I won’t use a knife!” Hogg said. He’d slung his impeller and held the winking blade in his right hand.
“No, it may be safer for Daniel!” Adele said, clear-headed again. She put a hand on Hogg’s shoulder. She’d had a sudden horrific vision of the roots going into spasms that drove them into her friend’s brain. How deep were they now?
“Mistress?” said Sun, handing Adele a condensing canteen. Because the crew had been searching the Tree and the dry wastes around it, they were wearing RCN dismount gear. “I dropped half a dozen salt tablets in it. Will that do?”
“Yes,” Adele said, slipping the pistol into her pocket again. Hogg snatched off his bandanna and gave it to her. She slopped water over it, then applied the wet fabric to the roots covering Daniel’s face.
For an instant, nothing happened; then she felt the plant writhe as though someone were pulling a piece of coarse brocade under the bandanna. A tangle of fine roots dropped away.
Daniel trembled; his eyes were closed and his face looked like that of a sleeping angel. Adele moved the bandanna higher up her friend’s scalp and poured more saltwater over it. The roots jerked away like hairs shriveling as they came too near an open flame. Daniel’s hands opened; his recall plate clattered to the floor. He would’ve toppled onto his face if Hogg hadn’t let go of the impeller and grabbed him.
Spacers and the Klimovs as well shouted amazed questions as they poured through the doorway. The echoes were odd. The cavern must stretch unguessably far into the distance like a gigantic organ pipe.
And how many strangers would have been kidnapped in the future, if the Sissies hadn’t put an end to the business tonight?
Hogg knelt, lowering Daniel toward the floor. Adele sat cross-legged and cradled his head. Tiny red pimples spotted every inch or so of his bare skin.
“Did they kill the captain?” a Sissie cried. “Did the bastards kill him?”
Daniel opened his eyes. Adele waited, her face as still as the hard metal lines of the pistol in her pocket.