“Here. We. Go.” I had to take most of Sunday off from writing as I was not sure how this entire scene would play out. At one point I was revealing too much and at another made Allie look like an ingrate. Not comfortable with either, I sat on my back deck, drank wine, and waited. Finally, Monday, I think I have things sorted. This is be a busy week.

Makarovs are very nice pistols. I’ve held one but never shot it.

Enjoy my content? Buy me a beer!

“This path is a made thing,” she noted.  “How far along have you gone?”

“I don’t really recall,” he admitted.  “After ending up here, and realizing I was not leaving anytime soon, I may have walked for a day.  But, my eyes still hadn’t fully adjusted, so after falling on my face twice, I gave up and went back to that water pipe.”

“I’ve a flashlight, and my eyes are pretty good,” she said.  “Can we at least explore a little ways?  Weeks and months, remember?”

“I remember,” he said a bit dejected.  “The excitement of another person, then being told…  Well, it’s a kind of whiplash.”

Alicia came to his left before taking her light up.  “Close your eyes,” she warned.

On at a low setting, she scanned it about.  Off.

“Right, we’ll go ahead about thirty meters, then I’ll do that again,” she announced.  “It seems the wall on the left gets further away, but this path stays one or two meters next to the lake.  Interesting.”

“Any idea why?”

“Not a clue.  But it was made that way for a reason.  Once you know that, it allows you to begin building a mental model of the Crabbies.” She paused.  “If it was them who made it.  Perhaps they were lost here just like you and me.”

Coming up to their next stop, Allen asked, “Is everything metric in the future?  I know Texas wasn’t, barring Navy work, and Fussy talked miles and yards.”

“In space and on Mars, the imperium tried to keep to the old ways, but it became too much of a bother,” she replied.  “I can think in both with ease, but my default is metric.”

With nothing else to talk about, they fell silent for the next three stops.  At the third, Alicia turned left while taking Allen’s hand.

“The footing is rocky and uneven.  And, personally, I don’t want anyone else lost down a hole again,” she said with a smile she knew he could not see.

“So we’ll go out together?  Another couple of miles deeper?” he managed with a laugh that was more a bark.

“This world still has a molten core, damaged though it is, so let’s go too deep, uncle.  Ouch!” the last as she kicked the toes of her right foot into a rock.

“Are you okay?” Allen demanded, tightening his grip and pulling her into him.

“Yeah.  Stubbed my toe.  My fault for wanting to be adventurous.  I guess we should go back to the – ”

The reports were faint.  To the south.  Alicia heard three.

“That was a pistol.  Makarov.  Only one person on our team carried an antique like that.” She ran away from Allen, east, back to the lake.  In seconds, her form was invisible to him.

“Come on, Allen!” she screamed.  “Zhukov’s in trouble!”