"You are a rifter too?" Beaky clicked with wide eyes. As he spoke, his head darted back and forth. "What is going on?"

"The floor and ceiling are compressing," Arachna clicked. Images passed through her mind along with words and various abstract ideas once held by her Yumen host. This place wasn't just a wasteyard. "We're in a trash compactor."

"Eeek," Beaky exclaimed, flapping his wings. He jumped up and climbed onto a pile of trash. "We're going to die."

Think, Arachna said psionically. Calm.

"Help, help," Beaky clicked, frantically flapping his wings like a helpless bird trapped in a cage. "We're going to be crushed, flattened, rolled over like tumbler fodder."

The heaps of garbage were being pushed together by the encroaching ceiling of the room. The floor and ceiling in the rectangular room were pushing together while the walls remained unmoved.

"Yumens trapped us," Beaky said. "Out of one trap and into another." His entire throbbed back and forth as he spoke.

Well, Arachna thought. At least he has his energy back.

Beaky was in an utter panic. Were all other Krath like this? Or maybe being trapped and dissected by Yumens did this to a dactyl? Dactyls needed the freedom of open skies, not the confinements of small Yumen living spaces.

It wasn't natural.

"Help," Beaky clicked rapidly.

Arachna, on the other hand, had escaped more than one bind before in her short life. She scampered toward the door, pressing firmly on the knob.

Nothing.

Horde, the Yumens must lock it before turning on the compressor. There wasn't a way out. Maybe there was a way to jam it? She climbed the walls, scanning them for some sort of motor or set of gears. There had to be something that she could use.

Closing her eyes, she listened, visualizing the room in her imagination. Through the sounds, she could trace the source of the hidden strength behind the walls

"What you doing?" Beaky clicked.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Shhh," Arachna clicked. "Searching."

Beaky turned his head sideways and began circling Arachna as if to examine her.

"Stop it," Arachna clicked. "I need to focus."

The compaction powered by forceful drive motors, but they were hidden behind the walls—inaccessible from inside the room.

Beaky began pecking at the wall near where Arachna clung. He didn't say anything, just pecked. Whatever he was doing, it made it harder for Arachna to focus. Maybe this was how dactyls dealt with stress?

Listening to the sound, she imagined the entire room. She could hear the crunch, crunch from bits of garbage as they snapped. Once the compactor reached a certain point, the sound would amplify as everything collapsed into a small space like a collapsing star, Beaky and Arachna included.

There wasn't anything in the room strong enough to counteract the forces of the powerful drive motors. Maybe there was another way to jam them? Was there a way to cut off the power? No, why would Yumens run power lines inside the trash compactor?

Beaky was now pecking lightly at Arachna's legs. She could feel his breath on her body. The dactyl had calmed down.

How else could she turn off the compactor? If her Yumen host had been designing this place, what would he do?

"Beaky," Arachna clicked. The dactyl's irritating pecking was making it very hard to concentrate. She needed to think. "I need to focus."

The dactyl said nothing but hopped from side to side as if staring at something underneath her.

"What is it?" Aracha clicked.

"There," Beaky clicked, pointing with his beak.

Arachna crawled to one side. She had been clinging to a section of the wall that looked to be a removable glass panel, underneath which were—

"Of course," Arachna clicked loudly.

"Something helpful?" Beaky clicked, raising his wings and tail into the air.

"Yes," Arachna clicked. "Emergency release. Help me remove this." If Engineer Carlsen were designing this place, may he rest in the Xither, he would build in an emergency system. Horde, if Arachna were designing this place, she would do the same. Nothing worse than being flattened into a pancake inside one of these monstrosities.

Beaky yanked open the panel with his mouth. Underneath it was a red lever.

Pull it, Arachna said psionically.

Beaky obliged. With his open beak, he clamped down on the lever. Then he drew his head back.

Suddenly, the compactor stopped. The crunching noises ceased. Everything went silent for a brief moment. Then the ceiling and floor reversed course and began their retreat.

We did it, Arachna said. We are free.

"Hooray," Beaky said, flapping his wings. He twirled around while hopping between two legs in a celebratory dance, his tail flinging up and down.

As the ceiling and floor pulled back there was empty space between the partially compressed garbage throughout the room.

Beaky paused, then clicked "Now what?"

"Now," Arachna clicked. "We find our way out." As she spoke, red strobe lights flashed throughout the room. A loud, piercing siren wailed in the background.

A female voice spoke through a hidden speaker in the ceiling. It was cold and adroit. Artificial? "Emergency System Activated. Compactor Disengaged. Please Stand By for Medical Support."

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