Page 23 of On A Rift's Edge
It took a while for him to make sense of the broken objects around him. It finally dawned on him that most of them were cages, both small and large. Aquarium-like structures with cracked glass were scattered among them, any liquid inside long since evaporated.
The bodies of the Riftworld captives kept in them remained.
Kat crouched next to one of the tanks, trying to sort out what species the skeletal remains belonged to. He moved on to another series of large canisters and felt sick when he saw the piled remains of empty trash scorpion shells. He didn’t go closer to what had to be autopsy—no, dissection—tables, stained with old blood.
This had been a containment area for Riftworld prisoners, and the human military had killed and tortured different species in here before the base had fallen under Riftworld control with the help of the phantoms. Kat wouldn’t have thought he’d be taking the side of ravenous killer jellyfish, but what humans had done in this space was abhorrent.
He moved closer to the center of the room where a circular structure arose from the floor. It resembled the pictures of above-ground swimming pools he had seen in old newsfeeds.
There was a ladder leading up to the top of the structure about as tall as he was. He climbed up the narrow stairs, leaving Lyall behind. The hellhound was too large to fit.
It did look like a pool, but one filled with a golden liquid and topped with a clear covering, as smooth as glass.
Suspended inside, like a fossil trapped in amber, was the body of a nude man.
Kat glanced down at Lyall. The hellhound was giving the side eye to the trash scorpion’s clan, who had encircled the elevated pool, regarding Kat with solemn anticipation.
The hellhound grunted, then raised himself on his hind legs to peer over the top of the structure.
Lyall let out a roar that reverberated throughout the space, and Kat clutched the handholds on the ladder for support. Remembering his bodyguard’s earlier warnings, he scrambled down and stood behind Lyall, who directed a ferocious bellow toward the trash scorpion who had led them in here.
The crab-like creature stood face-to-face—well, shell-to-fang—with Lyall and didn’t flinch. The standoff continued, until Kat finally had enough. The room had a horrifying history, but as far as he could tell there was no threat here. Only the dead body of a person, preserved in an awful jelly-like tomb.
They were far too late to save anyone. Why had the trash scorpions brought them here?
“Lyall, you have to change back and let me know what’s going on.” Kat half-expected the hellhound to ignore him, but Lyall altered back into human form, glowering in fury.
“That’s a hopper stasis container.” Lyall gestured toward the structure, his living leathers slithering into place around his muscular forearm as he did. “If this scuttling little liar has led us into a trap, he’ll regret it.”
Kat held up his hands, both for calm and a chance to get a word in. “There’s a human body in there, which the trash scorpions might have thought was a living person. And I don’t know what a hopper is.”
Lyall gave him an incredulous look. “Think giant killing frog, and you’ll be close enough. They’re my clan’s sworn enemies, and they’re dangerous.”
“I thought drakones were your clan’s sworn enemies.” Kat wanted to go back up on the ladder and get a better look. Perhaps the body could be removed and identified so family members had closure and peace. He had only been able to take a quick glance, but the corpse had looked perfectly preserved, perhaps by the substance inside the pool.
“We have a long list of sworn enemies.” Lyall shoved an angry finger at the trash scorpion, who seemed unimpressed. “Drakones are close to the top, but hoppers are up there, and that crab should have warned us before luring us in here. Hoppers have a militaristic society and fight in organized cadres. One individual hopper isn’t much compared to a drakone, but there are a lot of them, and they like to target humans.”
“Oh.” Kat had read a few articles describing a species known colloquially as “OVNI-rana,” Spanish for “UFO-frog.” They resembled giant amphibians and had fought human military forces near rifts in Central and South America. Other than sensational anti-Riftworld propaganda on entertainment channels, there was little information about them. He made a mental note to do a full literature search when he got back home. “Alien frog armies. Yes, I’ve heard of the species, but they’ve never been reported in North America, and the body inside the tank is human.”
“There were hoppers here at one point.” Lyall rapped the side of the pool with his knuckles. “I’d guess the military built a shell around the stasis chamber and kept it here for further research. Hoppers use them to store people from other Riftworld clans, and humans as well.”
Kat grimaced. “To keep them fresh so they can eat them?”
“The stasis chambers can achieve a suspended animation that can keep someone alive for years.” Lyall’s face grew grimmer as he spoke. “That way the tissues can be harvested to help bioengineer new hopper soldiers that look like a different species. Those prisoners can also be woken up and used to train soldiers to infiltrate enemy clans or human society.”
That was awful. It also meant that the person suspended in the liquid might not be a preserved specimen.
“He could be alive.” Kat spoke his next thought out loud, excitement building. He reached out to touch the side of the container. “That’s why we were brought here. We have to open the container and save him.”
The trash scorpions, who had remained silent and unmoving during their conversation, made muted clicking noises after his statement. Then they began to climb up the ladder, their chitinous bodies clattering on the metal.
Their leader stood silent and motionless in front of Lyall, the party hat on his shell tilted to one side.
“We don’t know what’s in there.” Lyall took a hold of Kat’s arm. “Or how to open it and not kill whatever it is. Look, I know you study riftpeople so this is fascinating for you, but we need to get out of here and come back with someone who knows more than I do about this type of rift tech. The guardians stick their stone noses in a lot of other people’s business. Let’s let them take care of it.”
A sharp noise rang out, as loud as a gunshot, and both Kat and Lyall turned toward the container. More cracking noises came from the top of the tank, and a rising trill rose up from the creatures around it.
Kat felt a tugging at his ankle and saw that the chief trash scorpion had the cuff of one of his pants leg in his claw. Comprehension dawned. “They’re opening the tank for us. That’s why they took us here.”
