They kept running and the sounds of the skittering bug robots slowly died away. At the next junction, Xander veered left. But Mal looked around and saw a fire burning in an old drum, right in front of the right-hand path.
“No, that way.” She ran for it.
At the next crossroads, she picked the middle path, marked by a flame trap that blew fire across the entrance at random intervals.
They eventually slowed to a jog.
“I can’t detect the robots any longer,” he said.
She heaved a sigh. “That’s the best news I’ve had all day. Your systems are back online?”
He nodded. “And I believe we are closer to the center of the maze than before.”
She touched his cheek. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve restricted blood flow to the area, and I can expedite healing there.”
She traced her finger along his eyebrow. “You have metal attached to your bones?”
He stiffened. “In some places, yes.”
Her poor cyborg. “No wonder you weigh a ton. And are so strong.” She cupped his uninjured cheek. “I don’t care about metal bones, Xander. I think you’re beautiful.”
A quirk of his lips. “Men are not beautiful, Malin.”
“They can be.” She smiled. “I think I’ve solved the first part of the riddle.”
“Go on.”
“Flames are our friends. At each junction, one path is somehow marked by flames. That’s how I picked our paths.”
His eyes flickered. “And now we’re closer to the center.” He flicked a finger at her nose. “Well done.”
Mal craned her neck, studying the roof far above. “It irks me to think of Forge up there watching us, laughing at us.”
“That, I can do something about.” Xander looked up as well, neon flaring to life in his eyes.
After about a minute, his eyes returned to normal.
“What did you do?”
“I isolated the camera frequencies and jammed the feed.”
“Really?” She imagined Forge staring at static-filled screens and smiled. “Nice job. Now what?”
“Now we keep moving.”
They moved deeperinto the maze.
Xander didn’t think Malin had noticed the rip in her dress. It had left a rather intriguing split on one side that showed tantalizing glimpses of slim thigh.
He shook his head. If his team saw him now, on the run for his life, trying to find the Antikythera, and fantasizing about the woman beside him, they’d think the universe had imploded.
They reached the end of another path and came out on a platform. Below, a giant sea of junk and scrap spread out before them, blocking their way. In a few places, piles rose up like mountains or islands.
“Well, I guess we have to cross it,” she said.
He didn’t like it. His scans couldn’t detect a bottom. Something was skewing his readings. There could be anything under the sea of junk.
