"Laura, it talked. He talked." Lala folded her arms, her face turned to Daniel. "He talked," she whispered.

Five-Five-Six lumbered to Daniel. "I'm sure you're mistaken."

Laura picked him up by the throat. Her height matched his, but Daniel felt he was stronger. So it came with great shock when he rose off the ground.

Laura examined him, turning him this way and that. "I'm sure you're mistaken," she said again.

"He talked. I heard him."

"Oh?" Laura asked. She lowered Daniel to the floor. "I wonder what he's got to say. Talk. If you can talk, mutt, this is the time."

Like Five-Five-Four, Laura's head was shaved clean. She had blue eyes, too. When Daniel met her gaze, he felt insignificant.

Something pierced his skin and he risked relaxing his body. The sharp blade was unmistakable—she held a knife to his belly.

"Talk," she demanded again.

But it was a threat. Daniel kept his mouth firmly shut.

The grip on his neck tightened. The black skin they wore must have been why. It made them stronger.

Whatever the reason, she had brawn and the glare in her eyes said any word he'd utter would be his last.

Lala watched Laura's back. "Has he said anything?"

"Nothing. I told you. It's the stress." Laura gave a final squeeze then stepped back. "I'll take him back to the cage."

"S—sure," Lala said. "That's better."

"I'm here." Andy stumbled in, a black bag under his arm. "And I've got all the equipment I can carry. Hold him out. Hold out his hand. This is a great discovery if we manage to make it back in one piece. And everybody laughed about me bringing the old language machines, too."

Laura called over her shoulder. "It's a dud. He doesn't talk."

Andy's posture withered. "Really? Are you sure? What kind of tests have you done?"

After casting a sharp glance at him, Laura dragged Daniel up by the chest and brought the knife to his throat.

"Talk. If you can talk, do it now."

Daniel didn't dare look away. He opened his mouth to comply but that blade dug into his skin. It calmed when he rethought those efforts.

"That's not the way to go about it. There's nothing scientific about that, ma'am."

"Stop calling me ma'am," Laura said. "Here's something that science can't teach—persuasion. If he can talk then he must value his own hide." She dragged Daniel closer, teeth gritted. "I dare him to talk."

Clang. Clang.

An alarm sounded.

"Animals," someone called from beyond the tent.

"No." Andy hurried to the tent flap. "They'll eat our harvest." He called back. "Six?"

But Laura kept her grip on Daniel firm. Finally, she answered, "I'm coming."

She shoved Daniel down and marched out. "Keep it here for now but once the animals are taken care of, it returns to its proper cage. Understood?"

Lala nodded. "Yes."

But Laura paused at the exit. "You're not coming?"

As much as Daniel feared being alone, he hoped Lala would stay for her own sake—she was poor with animals.

Lala shook her head.

Six walked out. "Be careful alone with it."

"He really did speak," Lala said, catching the woman by the arm. "Honest to all, it spoke."

Laura gave her a long hard look. "It's your imagination."

"And if it's not?" Lala pleaded. "If it's not?"

"You're acting like it'd be a good thing," Six said. "Your so-called discovery's got us stuck here for another day. Twenty-four hour assessment and all."

"But you've said he can't talk."

"Doesn't matter. It's protocol. If we ever find a hint of intelligent life, we have to wait twenty-four hours before commencing the harvest. So it's tomorrow before we move out."

Relief filled Daniel when Six left.

That feeling of safety was short-lived—Lala drew a weapon. She flopped down on her chair, her hand on the oddly shaped pistol. Daniel had seen enough of those from the Reiks. He hated guns.

Now it was just the two of them.

Lala never looked away. "Can you speak?" she pleaded. "If you can speak, do not lie to me. Tell me now."

But instead, Daniel rooted up his shirt and gasped at the clean gash, so thin he could hardly see it.

"Please," Lala begged again. "Can you speak? Do you have that capacity?"

Despite her plea, the fear in her expression suggested that she wanted anything else to be true. Daniel blinked at her, much like she'd blinked at him when they first met.

"Mad, move your tail. This thing's huge," Four's voice boomed.

A commotion brewed outside, yet Lala still stared Daniel down. She studied his every move. Finally, the noise closed in and she grabbed on her helmet and darted out.

Curiosity drove Daniel to stand. The very real taste of his mortality moments earlier made his feet feel heavy when he tried to move toward that trusty hole in the flap to look.

What he saw was a stampede. Deer zipped by. And not the good kind. Small deer were normal. These oversized ones came from the lower areas closer to all the muck. They were usually ill, easily agitated, and utterly unaggressive.

One would think they were fearsome with how Lala's people shot them one by one.

By the time it was over, nearly the entire herd lay bleeding.

"And they wreak," Four complained. "Throw the carcasses over."

It took another hour for Lala to return, a sea of chatter at her back as she walked in.

The flap anchored then shot out again. One of her people darted through.

Upon the sight of him, there was no need to wonder if it was male; the man was nearly twice Lala's size across the chest. He landed one punch against her helmet, grabbed it under the chin and yanked it off. A black snake zipped from Lala's mouth. She arched back to allow it to leave her throat.

"Another day here? You know how much I hate this place," the man barked.

Gagging and gasping, Lala held her neck. Her eyes burned with fear and pain.

Daniel leapt to his feet and jumped between them. His speed surprised the man enough to give Daniel leverage when he shoved the aggressor back.

Hunched over, Lala struggled to breathe.

The man came back but Daniel blocked his path. Teeth gritted, Daniel waited for the pain to come. What he got was silence.

Helmet still in place, the man regarded Daniel for some time. Finally, he tossed Lala's head covering down and walked out. The numbers on his helmet read Six-Six-Six.

Zip when the anchor. Daniel went into motion. He didn't have much in the pouch around his waist, but he did bring more root for their journey.

Hand on Lala's shoulder, Daniel looked her over. Blood spilled from her mouth.

Her look of horror was hard to bear. Thoughts of the snake came back but when he regarded it, he found it dormant. It didn't move.

"Come," Daniel said, unsure if he should speak even now. "Come, this will help."

But when she came to her senses, she dragged herself from his grip.

That action quieted the both of them. Her eyes fell on the black tube. Daniel snatched it up before she could, afraid she might try to swallow it again despite the dirt.

"It's my way of getting food," she told him. "I need it back."

He didn't budge.

Standing to her full height again, something about her seemed different. Two blades extended along her forearm.

"You just saved his life," she assured him.

Daniel saw it now. Even the angle she'd hunched was strange at the time. And she was fast, much faster than the big brute who'd busted in. She could have saved herself.

The reality of what he himself just did forced Daniel to regard his own hands; he trembled. One glance at Lala showed that she did, as well.

Without a word, he took her by the arm and shoved her into the chair. The weapons on her suit folded in, away from view. Tube tucked under his arm, Daniel picked up the discarded bandage he'd given her. He thought to replace the root but a good portion of the one he'd given her the day before was still wet and potent.

She gave no protest when he brought it to her throat yet again.

"And do not take it off."

Chest heaving, Lala watched him.

Daniel was unsteady but he stepped back in time. "Will he return? Should we arm ourselves?"

Eyes wide with wonder, maybe at his speaking, she stared up at him. "No. Priest is a good man. No doubt he was drunk off some sweet air. Taking the tube out hurts. He was just trying to make a point."

The explanation satisfied her, and yet it horrified him. Was this a common thing for her kind?

Daniel held her face, forcing her mouth open. The blood wasn't plentiful but it worried him enough. "I have some leaves, too. If you swallow them, I'm sure it will help."

She caught his grip. "What I need is that tube," she said.

He was reluctant to give it so he stepped back, steeling himself for her ire.

Lala stared up at him for some time. "You are stubborn."

There was no argument there.

Her focus shifted once more. "And you talk."

"Why is that a terrible thing?" Daniel asked, confused.

She gave no answer. When she regarded the tube again, he inched away.

"Come. Give it here."

He refused.

For the few days he'd known her, he'd learned the hard way that she was quite capable. And yet, she didn't rush him and snatch it.

"Please." She held out her hand.

There was no point. He wouldn't give it back, not until he understood what she was and what her kind was doing.

"How can you talk with this thing?"

Lala met his gaze. "It looks thick now but when it's in it elongates and gets thinner. It lines our throats and connects to the back of our teeth. The helmet signals it to come up depending on how it's ripped off."

Daniel blinked at her.

"It looks horrible and it doesn't feel all that pleasant, but trust me, it's not that bad. It's gentle compared to other things he could have done."

"There was nothing gentle about that."

Lala sighed yet again.

"And you were readying for him," Daniel said.

The accusation made her nod and admit, "Because I know he was drunk and you can never predict a drunk Volunteer. But I assure you, Priest is a good Volunteer."

Daniel didn't answer.

"He didn't hurt you, now did he?" Lala insisted. "And he could have, easily. You were foolish to block his way."

"Did you expect me to stand there and do nothing?"

Her brown eyes widened in shock. "Of course, I did. Of course, I did," she repeated. "You hadn't a mijin of a chance."

She spoke truth yet Daniel felt slighted.

What he'd done may not have seemed logical to a coward, but it should have made sense to a fighter like her.

"You would have done the same for me."

"No, I wouldn't," she scoffed. "Not. Even. Slightly."

Face heated, Daniel regarded the tube again.

"Give it here."

He ignored her and sat on the floor. "Come and take it if I'm so weak."

"I cannot go out there without it. I will not have food," she said firmer.

Wordless, he put his head down to rest.

"You pest," she hissed. Rather than stand and perhaps step on him, she said, "Let us be friends. And when we are friends, you will give me what is mine. All right? It's a very delicate device and it is not something easily replaced. I do not have another. So let us be friends."

"Who are you and what are you?" Daniel asked. "Why do you come to the temples? They are forbidden."

"I'm number five hundred and fifty-five. I'm a Volunteer."

He offered her a blink for that useless bit of information.

"My name is Maddison. Most people call me by my number. I live high up in the mountains. Me and my people come down in an effort to render help to possible survivors." She shook her head. "But till now, you are the first one I've encountered."

Daniel puzzled at her words. "The first? But what of the people outside in cages? You have near a hundred of them."

She took her time answering. "That's not the same—they're not the same as you. They have no form of speech or communication. Long ago a great disaster brought this world to ruin. My kind escaped the floods by going higher up."

"Leaving the rest of us to die. Yes, I know." Daniel calculated how much information he should share with her. "In fact, your people collapsed the means of escape and made the cliffs too high for others to follow."

La...Maddison gazed at him and nodded. "It's true. But it was desperate times and people feared for their lives. Those with riches were able to buy a ticket on the escape airships. Fifty years later when the floods finally receded, we encountered sparse ferals here and there. But in the last hundred years we have seen their numbers dwindle."

"Ferals?"

"People who were once human." She gestured to the flap for a door. "Those out there. They don't talk and their prolonged exposure to the rancid air has had terrible effects on their brain development. We come now and then looking for intelligent life. But...you are the first."

A sinking feeling settled in Daniel's gut. Dread came with it. The longer he sat there, the less likely going home seemed.

"They talk," Daniel insisted. "They all talk."

She didn't believe him. "We bring one doctor and one scientist to take specimens and research the land. Our universal communicators are so advanced that our people can understand one another. Trust me...they don't."

"Of course, they do. This area's run by the Willowers. They cannot hear. They must use their hands to talk. They also make strange movements when provoked as they think it will scare animals away. Do you not speak with your hands as well? All clans can."

The smile Lala gave meant she was being polite. "They cannot hear? That's.... I've never heard such a thing."

"You do not have the deaf in your world?"

Lala furrowed her brow.

"You do not?" Daniel gasped. "You honestly do not?"

"We do not," she said. "Bad genes are isolated and given treatment. Maybe before the world ended there were unfortunates with such a condition but now...I cannot imagine it."

"They're not unfortunate," Daniel argued. "They were a clutch. Some of them can hear, but even the hearing ones cannot talk as their parents cannot."

"Clutches? Clans? You speak of it as something vast."

Daniel sat up. "No clan is allowed more than five hundred people, our elders said. We must keep it small and break off. You must have seen others. Don't you go deeper?"

"Too dangerous. Not with this air."

"There's nothing wrong with the air," Daniel countered. "It's the air in here that's filthy."

This time the smile held pity. When Lala approached, Daniel stood as well.

"Listen to me. You must listen. The people out there, they can talk. You just do not care to try."

Lala reached for the tube.

Daniel snatched it away. "Listen to me. Allow me free speech."

She darted after it but he dodged her.

"Wait," Daniel begged. "Please allow me to talk to you. I have so many more questions. Do not ignore me for convenience's sake."

"Give it here. It's delicate and I must have it. It's two day's journey home and I have not eaten well in days. I cannot waste any more time because I have not even eaten today's meal. Give it. I will not romp with you further. Give it here."

Boom, boom, boom.

The earth shook. Daniel considered what the cause would be. Lala rushed for the tube but something else caught Daniel's attention.

He knew that sound.

As she darted for him, he darted for her and shoved her with all his might. She caught his forearms, holding steady.

Two antlers tore through the tent and by the time Daniel thought to save his own hide, one tore into his stomach. The searing pain was nothing compared to seeing Lala standing at his back, using him as a shield from the deer.

In her fist, she held the tube. The sight of it told him all he needed to know; he'd been a fool; he had this coming.