We’re a bit ragged as we stand around the hidden elevator down to Data Haven. Cor is exhausted from managing the robots on her own for a day. Cleve’s still kind of bruised from his tussle with one, but he’s managed a rough field-mend to the leg of his torn cargo pants. He’s been warily eyeing Dr. Citali’s briar beast as it has traveled with us. The scientist herself is calmer than she was when she first found us but still a little ruffled around the edges. She’s been pretty quiet on our final approach, chewing her gum thoughtfully rather than asking me any questions. Now, though, as we wait for Hypercor to input the entry codes, she pulls out a small vial holding rock-like crystals. These must be some of the pheromones or other biologicals used to direct the briar beast, which now needs to take up a guard position in place of the one we mistakenly destroyed our first time here.
Dr. Citali uncorks the vial, and the briar beast surges further upslope. As for me, I stumble a couple steps back, hit with an overwhelming smell. Damp dirt, musty iron—like rust, like blood. My vision dims on the edges as memories tied to that scent flood through me. For a moment, I even hear dripping water and distant sounds of the city. I feel trapped. “Can you close that? Can you close that now?” I ask. The words come out with anxious urgency.
“Sure?” Dr. Citali says tentatively. She looks over at me and then back down at the vial. “That shouldn’t… Humans can’t smell this. But, okay. Okay.” She reseals it and slips it in her pocket.
“This human can,” I insist.
“Cleve, you doing okay?” Dr. Citali checks, wondering if it’s just me.
“I’m fine,” Cleve replies succinctly, attention fully fixed on the briar beast. It’s good at marching and following orders, but he remains unsure of it.
Cor is also unaffected by the scent and has now finished summoning the elevator. In deference to the unwritten rules of Data Haven, I remove my xenofungus boutonniere before we head down. With a little bit of intention directed at it, I can coax it off of my lapel without damaging the fabric or the fungus. It’s grown new roots, and I scratch out some dirt to place it in. “I think you need a little pot for that guy,” Cleve suggests, but I’m sure it will do fine in the ground itself. Although, on further reflection, perhaps he meant to contain its spread, rather than give it a safe place to flourish.
When the elevator opens, we shove the robots inside and then crowd in as well. I enter last. The door slides closed behind me, and my stomach drops. I’m not claustrophobic, I’m just still trying to shake off the visceral reaction to that smell, and descending underground, where there are no clear exits, does not help. The ride is short though; it’s just one floor down. The doors open again, and Dr. Citali quickly slips past me. She pauses partway down the corridor, then turns back to me and explains that she had a trying time up on the surface and needs some time to recover. Straightening up a bit, she adds more formally, “I apologize for my unprofessional behavior in the field. I let my fear get the better of me. But after the evening meal, we can reconnect, if you like.” I nod and let her go. She takes a deep breath to further compose herself and then strides down the hall back toward the medical center. As she turns the corner, I see her slip another piece of gum out of her pocket and pop it in her mouth.
Behind me, I hear Cleve mutter, “You had a bad day?” I glance back and find him looking ruefully down at the bruises fading to greenish yellow on his forearms.