Chapter 109

Sarah POV

There wasn’t any human-grade alcohol in the entire mining compound, so I had mixed mine with water and was sipping slowly. There was no question that Zane, Travis, and I would be drinking that evening.

The National Guard troops had set us up with tents, including a double-sized one for Zane, and that’s where we were sitting, elbows on a table, chairs a little wobbly on the unpaved ground.

“I can’t just shut the place down,” Zane said, glaring down into his glass of whiskey as though it had insulted his dead mother. “The local economy completely depends on it.”

“Generations,” Travis said. “They’ve been treating the humans like replicable sacrifices for generations.”

“How many times do you think you heard the word ‘canary’ today?” I asked, not looking at the men with me.

“Half a dozen,” Travis said.

“I snarled hard enough at the last person who said it that they stopped,” Zane said.

“Will we be finding some sort of mass grave, do you think?” I asked.

“Unclaimed bodies were cremated,” Travis said. “They just used the mine’s waste incinerator.”

“How did I not know?” Zane asked. It wasn’t the first time.

“When the mine opened, certain types of human slavery were still acceptable,” I said, though we all knew the information I was offering. “The reforms just never really took hold, and things weren’t nearly this bad, I was told, until Tellis took over. The mine just isn’t producing anymore, and she was told to do whatever it took to keep it profitable.”

“I’ve got a team going over the company with a microscope,” Travis said. “All the board members are under house arrest except for the CEO, who’s fled the territory.”

“Right now, I just want to talk to the CFO,” Zane said.

Travis reached into a pocket for his phone, but I held up a hand.

“May I suggest you do that in the morning? You’re exhausted, we’re all exhausted, and you’ll probably just want to kill them on sight. Besides, this needs to be done as publically as possible, not in the middle of the night.”

Zane grunted and drained his glass before pouring more into all our glasses, which is why I woke up the next morning with a headache. It wasn’t too bad, though, and my personal tent was luxurious compared to the “housing” I’d seen for the human workers the day before. I just popped some aspirin, threw on some work clothes, and went looking for coffee.

Two of Travis’s shadows followed me. I realized I hardly noticed my bodyguards anymore.

Word had evidently gotten around that I wasn’t Marie Antoinette, and the human faces I saw were wary but no longer so full of hatred. The NG had set up a mess tent with beautiful, giant urns of coffee. I managed to keep from burning my tongue as I got the first cup in my stomach, and then I found some buttered toast.

After sitting with my refilled cup at an empty table, I set up my laptop and Googled a few articles regarding an idea I’d had before sleep came last night.

“Sarah Astor?”

I looked up to see a thin but still clear-eyed human man standing there eyeing my bodyguards but trying to smile at me politely.

“Yes?” I smiled back and gestured to the empty chair across the table.

He sat and nodded at me. His thin, scarred fingers rested on the table and then started picking at his cuticles. “Sam Shostakovich. Everyone calls me Shotz.”

“Hello, Shotz.”

He looked around then back at me. “It’s true, then? You’re here to, well, put an end to things?”

“Shut down the mine, you mean?”

He nodded.

“No,” I said, thinking about what Zane had said. “The mine has been central to this area for a couple centuries now. But we are here to put a stop to the abuses. Coal mining can be a safe, even healthy and prosperous profession.”

Shotz shook his head. “The mine’s about played out, ma’am.”

I nodded. “Can you tell me about the state of the mine right now?”

“We have several active shafts, but they’re just chasing the last of the seams. About two-thirds of the mine has been abandoned, filled up with water, mostly.”

“I don’t need any names, but can you tell me what happened with Shaft #18A?”

“It was a death trap, but they wouldn’t let us abandon it. Said they knew there was more coal there. Someone got a small artillery shell into the camp and threw it down there.”

He looked anxious. “I know it was destructive, but it saved lives, no mistaking.”

“I’m sure.” I was going to smile at him and say I was grateful, but I spotted Zane walking in with Travis and signaled for them to join us. Shotz made to stand up, but I asked if he wouldn’t mind staying and assured him I just wanted him to help me with an idea I had.

Shotz put his hands in his lap, where he no doubt kept picking at them, as Zane and Travis set down trays of eggs, toast, bacon, juice, and coffee. Zane frowned at my tray of half-eaten toast and put some of his bacon on it. I gamely ate a slice and made introductions.

“Shostakovich?” Travis asked. “Favorite of mine.”

“No relation,” Shotz said. “That I know of.”

“Any new information this morning?” I asked.

“There’s barely a fourth of this mine still operating, and what they’ve been digging up hasn’t met quota in years,” Zane said. “Tellis has been cooking the books, and not very well.”

He shook his head and raked a hand through his hair. I wanted to take that hand and press kisses to it.

“She’s been hiding the death toll too. Several workers still getting paid died on the job weeks, months, and years ago.”

“She’s been taking the money?” I asked.

“What little there’s been of it. She’s been skimming from the food, housing, and medical funds as well.” Zane looked at Shotz with one of those expressions that made people freeze in place. “I know it’s small consolation for you and your colleagues, but she’ll never see the outside of a jail cell after this.”

Shotz nodded, but said, “I’m more concerned about our future, if you’ll pardon me, Alpha Mr. Cavendish.”

“Just call him Alpha Zane,” I said quietly.

“They haven’t let us leave, you see. Not if we have any family here.”

“They were supposed to be offering you people training programs in computer data entry, software development, retail services—whatever you wanted, basically,” Zane said.

“Tellis take those funds as well?” I asked.

Zane shook his head. “That was the CFO.”

“Which we’ve got under guard in one of the few real buildings around here,” Travis said. He frowned at his empty mug and looked around the table. “More coffee? Shotz?”

“Yes, please, if you don’t mind.”

I handed over my mug. Zane shook his head.

“What sort of family do you have here?” he asked Shotz.

“Like everybody around here, I’ve got about a hundred kin, including cousins.” He laughed uneasily. “Lots of inbreeding jokes around here.”

Zane shook his head and looked both angry and sad. Travis came back with coffee.

“I’ve been doing some research,” I said, which made both Zane and Travis laugh.

“Of course you have,” Zane with some ill-concealed affection.

“It’s the water, the way it’s filled up the abandoned areas. That typically means after a few decades that you get steam, and that means geothermal power.”

“Sounds experimental,” Travis said.

“It’s been done quite successfully in some northern territories,” I said. “Iceland, for example, is almost completely run on hydro and geothermal plants. The upfront costs are high, but then it does pay for itself pretty quickly.”

Zane sent Travis a look. The agent drained his coffee, took out his phone, and walked away from the table. I turned to look at Shotz’s puzzled expression.

“He’s calling around to get some geothermal experts here,” I explained.

“You guys don’t waste time, do you?”

Zane chuckled.