Rushing water encapsulated Jerro. The current formed a sphere that warped around him, accompanied by a low, oscillating hum that shifted with his movement. He approached a long control panel nested among an array of pipes and gauges.

  From the torrent, another sphere merged with his.

  “Keeper Aleese, I don’t think we can close the breach from the control room. But I can triage the damage,” Jerro said, forcing his voice over the roar.

  “Good thinking, Cog Wavetail,” the Keeper said, calm as ever. “Define the problem. Then solve it. Just as you trained in Builders Basic.”

  Jerro restrained a smile. He pulled up a series of holographic displays and began moving his paws, engaging the translucent interface. He toggled a set of ribbon sliders into position, then flipped through feeds, grabbing them with a paw and tossing them aside.

  “Keeper, if I perform an emergency closure on access tunnels thirteen through twenty, I think we can slow the flooding.”

  On a fresh display, the Deepworks schematic bloomed to life. The Keeper spun it from a side profile to a bird’s-eye plan view. She zoomed in to inspect the specified tunnels. “Agreed. We can also reduce sluice gate two-alpha to ten percent.”

  Green switches clicked beneath Jerro’s paw, one by one, then bled to red. The Keeper spun a dial back with one paw while using her other to steady the display, monitoring the gate’s flow rate.

  “This won’t stop it.” The Keeper kept the dial steady. “But it buys the emergency team time.”

  “What do you think caused this?” Jerro asked.

  “I’m not sure.” The Keeper's eyes hardened. “Pull the feeds back up.”

  With a spread of his paws, Jerro slid the displays back into alignment. He returned to scanning the various locations throughout Deepworks.

  “There.” The Keeper pointed at one of the four displays, halting Jerro’s progress.

  Three dark-cloaked figures moved hurriedly down a pipe-lined corridor.

  Jerro fixated on the screen. “This wasn’t an accident.”

  “I’d bet a thousand greens it wasn’t. In all my years, I’ve never seen damage like this from a malfunction.” The Keeper paused, then pointed to the bottom left display as the three obscured shapes entered from the left and moved through a round tunnel lined with parallel piping.

  “That tunnel leads straight to Turbine Gallery II.” She pointed at the display. “We’re closer than any response team. Call it in as we move.”

  Lockers lined the wall. She went straight for them and pulled out two large metallic discs. After giving them a rhythmic tap, they sprang to life, hovering half a tail above the ground. She jumped onto one without hesitation.

  Jerro stepped onto the other. His webbed foot slipped off the edge, and he ended up mounting the platform belly first, then spun his lower body around and found his footing. The Keeper watched him maneuver his pear-shaped body into place.

  A patient, flat-lipped smile tugged at her mouth. “Ready, Cog Wavetail?”

  “Affirmative, Keeper,” Jerro said, standing upright.

  With their acoustic spheres shielding them from the torrent, they shot down the arched passage where the flow had subsided.

  “What if they reach the turbines first?” Jerro asked as they swept through a long straight section. “What if they do more damage?”

  “Call it in to third shift. Stay on my tail. I’ll notify Ordinate Rull. We need backup,” the Keeper said, glancing back at him.

  Jerro braced a paw against his temple and formed a mental link. “Third shift notified.”

  They sped through the tunnels, making quick work of a route they knew by heart.

  A pale figure lay motionless across the corridor ahead, ghost-white, damp fur plastered to its body. Webbed feet trailed in the stream of water rippling down the center. A long, ratlike tail was wrenched into a horrific knot, limbs frozen in contorted poses.

  “Keeper…” Jerro’s voice caught. “A nutria sentinel. What happened to her?”

  The Keeper hopped off her disc and placed a paw to the bleach-white rodent’s neck, checking for a pulse. She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”

  Her eyes hardened. “She’s gone. I’ll report it to the Ordinate. We keep moving.”

  They were nearing the location from the holographic feed.

  “We’re getting close,” the Keeper said. “Stay vigilant now.”

  Jerro shifted his webbed feet and tried to turn his disc to check behind them. His balance faltered, and he aborted the movement. He closed his eyes and placed a paw on his temple again.

  The Keeper turned her head over her shoulder. “No pulse scan. I already ran one. Nothing behind us. Save your energy.”

  “Affirmative, Keeper.”

  A circular doorway marked the end of the tunnel. TURBINE GALLERY II was stenciled above it in blocky white letters. They stepped off and deactivated the hovering discs. Jerro managed it cleanly this time.

  The door was propped open by a locking bar that hadn’t been reengaged. This part of Deepworks was dry, aside from minor leaks that pinged occasionally as intermittent drops fell from old fittings.

  With Jerro on her tail, the Keeper slowly pushed the door open.

  They entered a long room with high ceilings packed with repeating half-cylinders emerging from the floor and robust pipework winding throughout. Rectangular units spanned the far wall, generating a roaring hum that vibrated in Jerro’s teeth.

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  The Keeper looked at Jerro, and without moving her mouth, communicated a feeling into his mind.

  Stay quiet and stay close.

  Jerro’s mouth tightened and he nodded.

  They wove through the vibrating metal maze. As they moved deeper, distant chatter emerged through the white noise. High-pitched squeaks followed. A short, throaty shriek faded. Then a round of screeches.

  The Keeper glanced back at Jerro, eyes narrowed. Jerro lifted his paws in a helpless, questioning gesture.

  A faint blood-red glow bled through gaps in the machinery ahead, casting shadowed movement across the near wall.

  Before they could catch a clear glimpse, a deep guttural voice stopped them in their tracks.

  They froze, stacking tight against the side of the nearest purring turbine. The Keeper flipped down a transparent monocular eyepiece. Jerro followed.

  With swift, tactical precision, they moved around the corner, paw to temple, the other outstretched and facing forward.

  The three figures they had seen on the monitors were suspended midair. Their cloak hoods had fallen back, exposing stout furry heads with pointed snouts. Their bodies were contorted, arms and legs shifting in grotesque configurations.

  At the center, the source of the blood-red light revealed itself.

  Filaments of energy were being drawn from the smaller members of the formation, funneling into a coalescing crimson gyre. At its focal point stood a larger, heavily muscled version of its smaller counterparts. Smoothly wielding sharp claws, the behemoth gestured with practiced control, shaping the vortex.

  A maniacal smile anchored its vicious nose and sallow, sunken porcelain eyes.

  What stood out to Jerro, though, were the teeth. Fangs—the kind you’d see on big cats or other predators—protruded down and out of its wicked mouth.

  Jerro and the Keeper froze, stupefied by the stage of alien information that had penetrated their familiar world. The larger creature’s focus shifted. Its smile faded into a devilish glare as its gaze locked onto the Keeper.

  Her eyes rolled back, whites exposed. She burrowed into the mind of the beast, her outstretched paw grasping at blank air.

  Jerro felt it like a sledgehammer. A wave of nausea and a splitting headache overwhelmed him and drove him to his knees. He looked to the Keeper for help, only to realize he was merely collateral.

  Keeper Aleese doubled over and released a shuddering scream that echoed through the gallery.

  Sanguine coils of energy formed between them, flowing away from her and into the brute. The three smaller creatures dropped to the ground and squirmed. The Keeper lifted into the air, drawn toward the hulking, vampiric form.

  The villain laughed, deep and vengeful. The sound hit Jerro with the explosiveness of a shockwave.

  Jerro’s eyes darted, searching for anything that might help. Generators. Ceiling. Turbines.

  The brute stood on a large pad marked by nested triangles forming a nine-point star. Thick tentacles connected the pad to the machinery. Heavy cables expanded and shrank like a flexible straw, drawing down a thick substance. As the engorged section moved from turbine to platform, it released a deep orange glow that highlighted the veiny structure.

  Jerro’s monocular caught an anomaly along the sidewall of a pipe. A blue waveform pulsed across his eyepiece. High pressure. Routing into the turbine.

  The corrupted growth had spread finger-like roots along the pipework, compromising the structure.

  Helplessness fell away, and his jaw set.

  Jerro focused on the water within the pipe. He manipulated it into a zone of pressure that induced powerful shockwaves. The pipe shook violently and began to hammer, every molecule straining for release.

  The pipe erupted.

  A rush of water inundated the creatures, knocking down the two nearest the rupture. Jerro’s posture now mimicked the Keeper’s, paw to temple, the other outstretched.

  He turned his attention to the smaller creatures and targeted the only one still on its feet.

  Jerro reached into its mind.

  It was chaotic, full of malice and hate like he had never felt before, as if that was its only purpose. He saw flashes of a dark landscape beneath a deep maroon skyline. The creature flew on a wide-winged, stark gray bird with a thick bill.

  The scene jumped.

  Another, smaller member of its kind embraced it. Love. Comfort. The contrast hit Jerro so hard it nearly pulled him under. Malice and warmth braided together in a way his mind struggled to hold.

  Jerro’s eyes softened. His mouth loosened as he tried to find a weakness, to mold its mind to his bidding.

  Then nothing.

  He looked up.

  The creature was gone, leaving only a fading red mist where it had stood. With a grin, the pale giant pointed a blade finger at the empty space. Behind their master, the other two squeaked and rushed for cover.

  Jerro saw them reach into a small bag and pull out a hollow metal hoop. They expanded it to the size of a wide doorway and threw it at the far wall, where it adhered.

  From the smooth circumference, black liquid filled the ring, wavering like the surface of a raging ocean. It lapped out, sucked back, then calmed to modest peaks.

  Jerro’s vision snapped back to the Keeper.

  She was being drawn within touch of the demon. The smooth brown of her coat went coarse and stark as she neared it. Her body withered and thinned, anemic, like an old apple core left to rot in the desert. Even her strong paddle tail dangled limp.

  All the while, the color of the demon deepened, its coat turning a shade of burnt charcoal.

  Jerro shook his head and gritted his teeth. His feet carried him forward without consent. He charged, terror burning behind his eyes, and unleashed his fiercest battle cry.

  One of the smaller monsters stepped out from behind the pale beast and lifted a paw at Jerro.

  Jerro became weightless.

  His momentum inverted. He flew backward across the room, slamming into the wall.

  Deepworks reasserted itself. Jerro sucked in a wet, choking breath. The blood-red glow was gone, replaced by familiar blue lighting. The rhythmic hum of the generators dominated again.

  Jerro tried to stand and collapsed to his side against the cool, damp stone. A biting headache flared as his senses sharpened. Propping himself with his right arm, he involuntarily opened his mouth and released a stream of bile that pooled and ran back toward him.

  He looked down.

  A white, jagged stick protruded from his blood-soaked fur.

  Jerro scanned the room. In the distance lay a disheveled, stark-white pile.

  Arm over arm, he dragged his broken body across the gritty floor, stopping every few pulls to grimace and catch his breath. When he reached the withered lump, he grasped the side and rolled it over.

  “Keeper,” he choked out, scrambling for a pulse.

  She was still. Opaque white marbles sat in her sockets. Drying blood streaked from the corners of her eyes. Matching streams ran from her nose and ears.

  Jerro lay beside her for a moment.

  Then he heard the approaching slaps of webbed feet down the gallery.

  “We’re over here!” he yelled, voice cracking. “Help her!”

  A series of thin-tailed nutria sentinels rushed into the space between the turbines where the battle had unfolded.

  An aged, graying sentinel knelt beside Jerro and placed a paw on his chest, assessing his vitals. “You’re gonna be okay, pup.”

  Jerro reached toward the Keeper. “What about her?”

  Another light-brown sentinel knelt by the Keeper, lips pursed flat. She squinted, then shook her head.

  Jerro’s vision narrowed. Darkness worked in from the edges. He turned his head and saw a rotund beaver approach with a twisted cane. A scar crossed his silver face, cutting over a patched eye.

  “Ordinate Rull,” a sentinel said. “Keeper Aleese is gone. This Cog needs medical. Now.”

  Muffled chatter filled the turbine gallery. Jerro’s vision collapsed to a pinpoint as he was lifted off the gritty surface.