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Sergio now. His normally calm, professional voice now showed cracks, through which fear could be heard.
    “I don't know, like we're being watched, like we're not alone out here,” Tristan replied.
    They all waited, but the feeling disappeared with a snap. It had only been there for a second, as though something had barely glanced at them.
    “Got it,” Trevor said suddenly, the gate sliding open.
    Trent went through first, Drake right behind him. There was nothing but more snow and ice. Maybe it was the electric fence, but he seemed to be able to see farther. At the absolute edge of his vision, Trent thought he could see the outline of a structure. Not the main one, though, no way they'd come in that close to the drone guns.
    Everyone came through. As they began walking, there was the sharp sound of the gate snapping closed behind them.
    They all turned and again Trent felt like he was being watched. Worse than that, he realized. Not watched, stalked .
    “Get that open,” Sergio snapped.
    Trevor retraced his steps back to the gate, knelt by the keypad on this side and set to work. After five minutes, he stood up.
    “I can't, it's sealed shut. I don't know what happened.”
    “Fantastic,” Gideon muttered.
    “We'll cut through if we have to on the way back out. For now, keep going. In between us and the front entrance is a warehouse and a cluster of shacks. I want to check them out first,” Sergio explained. He seemed to be attempting serenity and failing.
    Trent felt a small slither of fear ripple through his stomach. What was their boss so worried about? As they began making for the first structure, the warehouse, Trent turned his mind to what might be waiting for them within. He wracked his brain for knowledge, because all he kept coming back to were two basic assumptions: a rival group of mercenaries or a whole lot of automated defenses that had gone crazy.
    In either case, he'd dealt with it before. Sure, it was unpleasant, but doable. Only...if it was something simple waiting for them in there, then why the secrecy, why the fear? Trent found his thoughts turning down a darker path.
    There were always rumors, myths, legends, bullshit even, among the mercenary community. Just like the days when space travel was still a fantastically expensive endeavor and never went past orbiting the Earth, people believed in paranormal activity, UFO sightings, ghosts, crypto-creatures. Going into space hadn't quashed such behavior. If anything, there were more stories now than there were before.
    And not all of them were unfounded.
    While no contact had been made with any intelligence, there were alien plants, alien wildlife, even the ruins of alien civilizations from an ancient, space-faring race called the Cyr. There were rumors that the Cyr had been into some interesting, and sometimes twisted, shit. As far as Trent knew, officially speaking, the government had reign over all Cyr sites and technology. Of course, that didn't stop them from brokering deals with the megacorps.
    Was this one such site, Trent wondered suddenly.
    If so...what might be waiting for them inside?
    They came to a side entrance of the warehouse, which was closed and undisturbed. Trevor opened the door with no problem. Trent and Drake went in first, ever on point, and played their flashlights across the darkened interior.
    “Exterior power is cut,” Trevor murmured. “At least the main line. Everything must be running on reserve.”
    “Fantastic,” Sergio said quietly.
    They moved slowly into the warehouse, scanning for anything that might be lurking in the shadows. The group flicked on their various flashlights and played the pale beams across the environment, cutting through the gloom.
    Outside, the winds shrieked and howled ceaselessly. The interior of the warehouse was filled with stacks of massive crates and piles of smaller ones. Everything seemed quiet and undisturbed. For a moment, Trent felt that they were visiting the site of an ancient