He didn’t want Jackson to have to lie beside the creature. He seized the salamander by one leg and dragged it thirty feet away. Afterward he rested. Then he went back and collected the matter converter.
Normally it pulled out into a boxlike shape, into which you would drop whatever you had and close the lid. But it had another configuration for processing oversize material. He detached the lid, set it aside, inverted the converter, set it on top of the dead salamander’s body, and closed its retractable grips.
He squatted beside the salamander’s head. “Hey. Ugly.” He pointed at the converter. “I’m going to feed you to that thing. It’ll take a while. But I want you to know. You’re going to help me kill more salamanders.”
He peered into the dead thing’s face. It had no response.
“Let’s get started,” he said.
* * *
—
The salamander allowed him to fully juice the lightning gun as well as his survival core. The converter could also hold a small charge of its own, so when he made it back to Beanfield, he could buy her EV suit another few days. After that, who knew. It was how they had to live now: a little at a time.
He tried to reach her on ping but her suit came back with basic life readings and nothing else. Most likely, she was sleeping. He considered his options. He wanted to return to Beanfield as quickly as possible. But he was also curious about the mound. If it was some kind of burrow entrance, that would be useful to know. He could scout it and plan his next hunt.
Since he had charge, he opened up his suit’s scan range to see what it could find. He had low expectations; it could only sniff the air, and wouldn’t map terrain or locate enemies. But any intel would be useful. It flared Beanfield’s location, which he already knew, and Jackson’s, beside him. Then, six miles away, Gilly’s.
Had to be a mistake. But it had life readings, which moved before his eyes. Gilly was here. He was alive.
He opened up comms. “Gilly.” There was no response. He worked out that Gilly was on passive ping, which was the kind of thing he might do if he wanted to conserve power but also be rescued.
He turned until he was facing the source of the ping. Ahead of him lay the mound.
He packed up the converter and began to strap it to his back. Then he hesitated. Beanfield needed that. Without power, she wouldn’t last another day. But he knew how quickly the gun chewed through power. He needed the gun, too, if there were a lot of salamanders between him and Gilly.
Again he tried Beanfield on comms. While it bleated, he looked at Jackson. “What do you think?” he said. By his reckoning, Gilly’s ping was at least half a mile underground. He thought he knew what Jackson’s answer would be. She wouldn’t hide in a cave while Gilly needed help. While the planet vented salamanders.
He was tempted to wake Beanfield. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to explain himself properly. He’d never had those kinds of words. Besides, either he would make it back out or he wouldn’t. That was what it came down to. He left her a recorded message anyway, doing the best he could, tightened the converter strap, and looped the lightning gun over his shoulder.
Gilly was trapped in the dark. Anders had to get him out.
* * *
—
The mound was sloped more gently on one side and fell off sharply on the other. He approached the sloped side and when he neared the top, he pressed himself to the rock and inched forward until he could peer over its edge. Below waddled a procession of salamanders. Fat white ones, a long line of the little fuckers, emerging from a hole in the ground to vomit resin at the base of the mound and then file back inside. No soldiers, as far as he could see. He watched until he was sure. Then he slid down the slope and prepared the gun.