Arachna yanked hard on her thread of silk. As she did, the utility closet at the base of the engine room slammed open. It banged noisily, colliding with the adjacent concrete wall.

Perfect.

The sound reverberated throughout the room. It was like an echo chamber, the noise bouncing from wall to wall like the screeches of a dactyl.

"What was that?" a voice said from the upper levels. She recognized it as the marine called Rodriguez. "Down, let's go down. Go, go, go."

Excellent, Arachna thought to herself. Now to finish the job.

Stomp, stomp, stomp. The three marines quickened their pace, practically flying down the stairs. Horde, they could actually move fast in those oversized metal exoskeletons.

Arachna waited 30 seconds for the Yumens to close in. Then she lowered her diversion.

The wooden figurine was crudely constructed with an old mop, two plungers, and some rags strung together with strands of webbing. From far away, it actually did sort of look like a Yumen—to her at least. If she squinted her eyes. She hoped it would for these marines too. She was betting that these Yumens would have weaker eyesight than she did.

"There he is," a marine said, pointing a gauntleted finger. "It's Xander, and he's making a break for it."

Arachna scampered along the underside of the first level floorboard, carrying the makeshift wood figure like a puppet at a theater.

The marines were two floors above but near the opposite side of the circular engine room. They could peer down at the exposed lower floor from a distance, and all they saw was a figure that appeared to be running very quickly toward the exit.

Bam, bam.

Horde, were they actually firing before even confirming that this was their target?

Bam

The head of the upside-down mop exploded in frayed pieces of rope, flying across the floor.

Arachna dropped the figure to the floor, making it appear lifeless.

"Got it," a voice said. This marine had a voice that was slightly higher pitched and more youthful than the man known as Rodriguez. "He's down. Moving in to confirm kill."

The three marines closed the distance, making their way to the bottom floor.

Horde, these Yumens were brash and stupid. She lifted up the figurine and tucked it away neatly into a dark corner of the room where it wouldn't easily be found.

"Where'd he go?" a marine said.

"Thought you said you killed him?" Rodriguez said.

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"I did."

"Clearly not," Rodriguez said, annoyance in his voice. "But if he's shot, he can't have gone far. Fan out. Search the perimeter. Johnson, exit the room and see if he made a break for it."

One of the marines nodded and made his way out. He cracked his knuckles before stomping out.

Very well, Arachna thought. Now to wait them out.

After a few moments of searching, the two marines regrouped near the exit.

"How could he have gotten away?" Rodrigez said, clenching his jaw. He balled his fists together in frustration. "Void, I'll kill Johnson myself for missing that shot."

"Sir, there's no sign of him anywhere," the second man said, shaking his head. "My scans aren't picking up any blood."

Arachna curled her hind legs into a ball. Of course, there was no blood. Couldn't these Yumens smell? Even with all the Xitherium, blood was a potent scent. Any Krath could pick up on fresh blood from dozens of miles away.

"Nothing, nada," the man shook his head even more. "We're wasting our time."

Rodriguez grunted. "He must've escaped. Burke, you stand post. I'll see if I can pick up on his track."

"But sir—"

"Those are your orders," Rodriguez said, glaring, as he walked out.

The marine known as Burke shook his head but then nodded. Walking to the door, he stood upright and waited. An exasperated look on his face, his eyes scanned the room, the pace of his breath decreasing.

Arachna scampered on the ceiling above him and peered down. It was tempting to lower herself down for a quick snack. But this Yumen's metallic exoskeleton was just so big. It looked too crunchy. She'd much rather feast on one of those engineer types. Sure, a marine would be tasty too but it would be more work. And if she couldn't eat the skeleton, how would she hide it?

She gnashed her mandibles together silently. Horde, who was this Yumen?

"What was that?"

The lone Yumen turned around.

He's scared, Arachna thought to herself.;

"I'm not scared," Burke said aloud. "If you're hiding in here, I'm going to find you. As soon as you go for the exit, I'll blast you away."

He still thought he was talking to the missing engineer. Would they ever figure out that Xander was dead? Yumens were not so bright.

"There you go, Burke, talking to yourself again," the marine said. "The engineer's probably just dead."

Finally, Arachna thought. One of them has some sense to figure out that a dead engineer is a possibility.

"You're actually making sense for once," Burke said aloud to himself. "Dead engineer is the most likely possibility."

Arachna tilted her head. What was going on?

"What's going on?" Burke said, straightening his back. He pulled out his gun and looked through the sights, scoping out the large engine room.

Arachna pulled deeper into her corner. This Yumen was parroting her thoughts. That was not possible. How could he hear her?

A bead of sweat dripped down Burke's cheek as he frantically scanned the room.

Can you hear me? Arachna thought, focusing her mind on the lone marine. If he could hear her, she hoped that this wouldn't give away her position.

"Help," Burke said. "Not again. The voices. I can't—"

She wondered if he'd be able to hear all her voices or only some of them. Turning her head, she focused on the Xitherium. The sweet, liquified Xitherium. She imagined the taste, the texture, the luminescent liquid coursing through her veins. Then she projected out a single mental thought.

Fear.

Burke said aloud, "I'll just stand post. That's all. There's nothing here."

Interesting. The Yumen didn't seem to hear her thoughts when she wasn't focused on him alone. But what if she tried a different approach?

In her mind, she visualized Burke. His pale white face, his high squeaky voice, his buzzed brown hair. The man had black eyes and a sharp, pointy nose. Sharp for a Yumen, that was.

Fear.

She psionically projected the single glorious thought at her victim, imagining the man cowering in fear. Would it work?

In an instant, Burke's legs began to shake, the pace of his breathing increased, and his heart rate took off. He was visibly frightened. The beads of sweat running down his face multiplied, and his cheeks reddened.

"I can't—" Burke said aloud. "I can't be here. Why did I sign up for this job?"

Then he turned and fled, abandoning his post.

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