"Something else you should know."

"Mmm?"

"When the ruin closed, there were five people inside the chamber: two lab techs and the head of the lab's security team. There were also two Guild men in there. We can't make contact. We don't even know if they're alive."

She sighed, closed her eyes, and dropped her forehead onto her folded arms. "I'm going to have to have a chat with my Harmonic Meditation instructor. There must be something really screwed up with my karma. I don't even get to enjoy a little innocent revenge. Instead, I have to go rescue three cretins who work for Amber Inc. and a couple of Guild thugs."

He had known that she would agree to help. Their time together had been brief, but it had been long enough to be sure of a few things about her. His Sweet.w.a.ter intuition had not failed him. For all her hostility toward him, personally, and the company in general, she would never leave five trapped and helpless people to their fate.

"Lyra," he said gently. He started to reach across the counter to touch her bare arm.

She straightened abruptly, stepped back out of reach, and came briskly around the end of the counter. "No one got caught in the doorway itself, when it closed?"

"No."

"Good. Give me a few minutes to change my clothes. I don't intend to ruin this dress in the jungle for the sake of Amber Inc."

He watched her walk toward the sliding screens that concealed the bedroom area.

"About the orchids," he said.

She disappeared behind the screens. "What about them?"

The screens were opaque but translucent. He could make out tantalizing glimpses of her shadow as she unzipped the little black dress and stepped out of it. Everything inside him got tighter.

"Just wondered who sent them," he said. "Given the fact that it wasn't me."

"Haven't a clue. There's never a signature."

He looked at the stack of cards. "Must be someone you know well, if he figured he didn't need to sign the cards."

"Mmm."

He contemplated the graceful shadow of her leg and the curve of her hip as she stepped into a pair of pants. She had a very fine rear, he thought. Truly excellent. The presence of the flowers indicated that some other man admired the same a.s.sets.

"What do the cards say?" he asked, unable to stop himself.

She appeared at the opening in the screens dressed in jeans, a faded denim s.h.i.+rt, and a pair of low leather boots. She had a jungle pack slung over one shoulder.

"See for yourself," she said.

He could tell from her smile that he was not going to like whatever was written on the cards. But he had to know. He rose from the stool, crossed to the coffee table, and picked up the top card. A strange, icy feeling twisted through him.

" 'We belong together,' " he read aloud.

"Romantic, don't you think?"

It took some major willpower, but he managed to suppress the urge to rip the card into little pieces. "That's a d.a.m.n personal message from someone you can't identify."

"Yes, it is," she agreed. "Guess I've got myself a secret admirer. Never had one of those. You know, my life has suddenly become a heck of a lot more interesting." She looked at Vincent. "Ready to go on a trip to the jungle, buddy?"

Vincent chortled enthusiastically and scampered across the room. Lyra scooped him up and headed for the door.

"Let's go," she said to Cruz. "The sooner I get your cretins out of the chamber, the sooner I can go to bed. It's been a very long day."

Chapter 4.

THEY ENTERED THE CATACOMBS THROUGH ONE OF THE official gates located inside the Dead City. That alone told Lyra just how seriously everyone was taking the situation.

"Oh, wow," she said when Cruz brought her to a halt at the doorway of one of the ethereal green quartz towers. "I get to go in through an actual authorized gate? I thought the only people allowed to use the Guild gates were corporate- and academic-sponsored R&D teams that paid top dollar for the privilege. I'm just a small-time independent, remember? Are you sure the Guild honchos know about this?"

"I'm aware that you don't like the Guild any better than you do Amber Inc.," Cruz said.

"Mostly because they have always worked hand in hand with AI to monopolize exploration underground and in the jungle, not to mention crush small indies like Dore Tuning & Consulting. Aside from that, I have absolutely nothing against either AI or the Guild."

"Do you think you could hold back on the sarcasm until we get those five people out of that chamber?"

"Sorry. Sometimes I just can't help myself."

"I noticed."

She gave him another glowing smile, aware that she was feeling downright reckless. Okay, so he hadn't come crawling back on his hands and knees to beg her forgiveness. He was back, and like it or not, he needed her, at least for a short time. As vengeance went, it was pitiful, but it was something.

They made an odd-looking pair, she thought. She was dressed for the jungle in the jeans and work s.h.i.+rt that she usually wore when she went underground. Cruz had removed his black jacket and tie, but he still had on the black trousers and black s.h.i.+rt he'd worn to the gallery reception. He had not wanted to waste time returning to his town house in a gentrified section of the Quarter to change clothes. But he had replaced his dress shoes with a pair of black leather boots, and he had a pack on his back. Both items had come out of the trunk of the Slider, where they were evidently kept for emergencies. a.s.sa.s.sin informal, Lyra thought.

There were no windows inside the tower room, but the interior green quartz floor, walls, and ceiling glowed gently, just as the outside walls did at night. As far as anyone knew, the aliens had never used any openings other than strictly necessary gates and doors in their aboveground structures. It was as if they had done everything possible to avoid letting sunlight and fresh air into their strangely graceful buildings. As far as the experts could determine, the lush, thriving surface of Harmony, with its fertile valleys, thickly forested mountains, broad rivers, and vibrant oceans, had been toxic to the long-vanished civilization. For the most part, the aliens had lived their lives underground.

Two ghost hunters guarded the tunnel entrance. They were dressed in the traditional khakis and leather that rank-and-file Guild men favored. The macho attire went with the swagger. They had been lounging against a green wall when Lyra and Cruz walked into the chamber, but they straightened quickly.

"Mr. Sweet.w.a.ter," one of the two said, nodding respectfully. "We were told to expect you. The sled is standing by down below. There's an extra locator on board. Anything else you need, sir?"

"Not at the moment," Cruz said. "This is Miss Dore. She'll be accompanying me to the site."

"Yes, sir," the second man said. He gave Lyra an appraising survey. "They said you'd be bringing someone who could open that d.a.m.ned ruin."

"That would be me," Lyra said coolly.

"Yes, ma'am." The first man eyed Vincent. "That a dust bunny?"

"Yes," Lyra said. "His name is Vincent."

The second ghost hunter frowned. "Not sure we're authorized to allow a varmint into the tunnels."

Lyra narrowed her eyes. "The bunny is with me. He goes where I go."

Cruz took a locator out of his pocket and checked his amber as he walked past the men. "They're both with me."

"Yes, sir," both hunters said simultaneously.

They stepped quickly out of Lyra's path. She made to follow Cruz, Vincent tucked firmly under one arm.

One of the men spoke behind her.

"Miss Dore?"

She paused. "Yes?"

"Do you really think you can open that amethyst ruin?" he asked. "We've got two good men trapped in there with the research team."

"Morgan and Estrada," the second man said. "Morgan is a friend. Estrada is my brother-in-law. My sister is in a real panic."

Their anxiety was genuine, Lyra thought. She gave them an equally genuine smile. "Don't worry; I'll get it open."

"You think they'll be okay?" the first man said. "There's talk about some weird energy inside that ruin."

"I've been informed that no one was caught in the entrance when it closed, so unless they've done something really dumb like try to get through the energy field, they should be fine," she said. "I spent a lot of time in that chamber before Amber Inc. and the Guild forced me out. There's nothing inside the ruin that would harm your friends."

Both men looked relieved.

"Thanks," the first one said. "Don't mind telling you we've all been d.a.m.n worried."

The second one exhaled heavily. "We appreciate what you're doing for us, ma'am."

"Right," Lyra said. She turned away before either of the two men could remind her of the old Guild saying, "The Guild always repays a favor."

"The Guild always repays a favor, Miss Dore," the first hunter called after her.

She winced. "Thanks, but I'll pa.s.s on any Guild favors."

She hurried toward the staircase. Cruz was waiting for her at the top of the glowing green steps. He looked amused.

"Amber Inc. has the same policy," he said.

"Excellent. If you want to repay me, you can return the ruin to me." She started down the staircase.

He ignored the comment and started down the stairs behind her. "You were nice to those two guards," he said. "Thought you said all Guild men were thugs. Sort of like all Amber Inc. people."

"Amber Inc. is a closely held family business. They don't actively recruit. But the Guilds do. What's more, they focus their efforts on vulnerable young males, seducing them with notions of an adventurous life in the underworld. But the reality is that most ghost hunters are nothing more than bodyguards for the research and excavation teams that go down into the tunnels and the jungle."

"And Amber Inc.?"

"The power behind the throne," she said. "For the past fifty years, ever since your grandfather cheated mine out of the Radiance Springs claim, your family has controlled half the SRA production in the four city-states."

"My grandfather tells the story a little differently."

"I'm sure he does. But the truth is, AI tolerates wild catters and independents only so long as we don't get in your way or come up with any really spectacular finds. If we do get lucky, you step in and take over. What's more, you have all the connections with the Guilds, the archaeologists, and the government to make it happen legally. On top of that, you keep things in the family. You've never gone public with your stock, so you don't have to explain things to shareholders or follow the usual corporate rules."

"We don't like the idea of outsiders trying to tell us what to do," Cruz said mildly.

"Trust me, I know the feeling," she said. "Let's move. It's late, and I've got to be up early in the morning."

"Appointment with a client?"

"No, my Harmonic Meditation cla.s.s."

"When did you start taking cla.s.ses in meditation?"

"Shortly after you told me your real name and walked out the door. I thought the cla.s.ses would help me deal with the stress and my hostility issues."

"Any luck?"

"Let's just say that if you had come looking for my a.s.sistance two months ago, I would have told you that your research team and those two Guild men could stay in that chamber until green h.e.l.l freezes over."

"No," he said. "You wouldn't have let five people suffer because of what I did."

He sounded far too certain of his conclusion. What could she say? It was the truth. She pretended she hadn't heard him and concentrated on keeping her balance on the dizzying staircase.

The steps were fairly wide, but they twisted down into the green world in a convoluted pattern that made no sense architecturally. Like everything else constructed by the aliens, the proportions were slightly off to human eyes. But the heavy dose of psi flowing up from the tunnels gave her a familiar little rush. She knew that Cruz felt the buzz, too.

Vincent wriggled out from under her arm. She set him on a step. He scampered ahead of her down the staircase, his little red beret flopping in a jaunty fas.h.i.+on.

"Looks like he knows where he's going," Cruz observed.

"As far as I can tell, dust bunnies are right at home down here. They don't seem to have any trouble navigating the tunnels or the jungle."

"Unlike us humans."

No one knew why the aliens had constructed the vast network of catacombs that crisscrossed the planet. In two hundred years of excavation and exploration, the descendants of the colonists had succeeded in charting only a small percentage of the seemingly endless maze of tunnels.

Recently the discovery of an even greater mystery, the ma.s.sive underground rain forest, had attracted so much attention from explorers and archaeologists and treasure hunters that mapping the tunnels had dropped to a low priority for most corporations engaged in underworld business. The strange jungle held out the promise of far more scientifically and financially rewarding discoveries.

As the Guild men had promised, the little utility sled was waiting at the foot of the staircase. Cruz got in behind the wheel. Lyra slid onto the bench seat beside him. Vincent bounded up onto the dashboard, where he had a clear view. He looked like a fluffy hood ornament.

Cruz ran a check of the sled's navigation instruments. Lyra automatically pulsed a little psi through her bracelet as well as the standard resonating amber she always carried with her. Getting lost in the catacombs was all too easy, and the results were deadly if you didn't have tuned amber. Independent prospectors became downright obsessive about amber. In addition, loners like her were always at risk of falling prey to thieves and the antiquities gangs underground. Both had a nasty habit of getting rid of people by stranding them in the jungle or the catacombs without amber. She always carried plenty of backup, and a lot of that backup was concealed.

"The jungle gate we'll be using is about ten minutes from here," Cruz said.

He rezzed the sled's simple little motor. More sophisticated engines and high-tech tools and equipment in general did not function well, if at all, in the heavy psi environment. The small vehicle raced along the corridor at top speed, which was just a little faster than the average person could run. Vincent leaned into the light breeze and made happy little noises.

"He likes to go fast," Lyra said.

"I remember."