Casey Lockhart came to this planet for one thing: exotic materials nobody had ever touched. She stepped off the shuttle onto cracked red rock threaded with dark green moss. Her scanner ticked in her gloved hand. The pay was good. The sector's reputation was not. Six hours ago she'd told herself the money made up for the strange readings. Now, boots on alien ground, she wasn't sure it did. Behind her, Yuri Metov dragged crates from the shuttle. He was her assistant, the one who carried what she handed him and never asked why. He set a crate down, tipped back the bottle of vodka she'd given him last week, and swallowed. "Camp there," Casey said, pointing to a flat shelf of rock. "Fine," Yuri said. He didn't ask why. He never did. He bolted panels together until a squat grey shack stood on the shelf. His hands worked steady even as the bottle emptied. Casey watched him wobble once and catch himself on the metal wall. She left him to it and walked the ridge. Her scanner needle jumped hard. She followed it to a low bed of red rock. Green goo pooled in the cracks, glowing soft and steady. The scanner named it and flagged it valuable. Very valuable. "Yuri," she called. "Bring canisters." He came, swaying, and knelt beside her. They dipped canisters into the goo. It clung and pulsed and lit their faces green. Casey sealed each one into a crate. Six canisters. Then eight. She did the math and smiled. This one bed could pay for the whole trip. Then the goo moved. A lump of it rose and split. Beady black eyes opened. A small octopus creature pulled itself free, slick and glowing, tentacles gripping the rock. It stared at Casey. Around it, more lumps stirred. The goo wasn't a mineral. It was them. "They live in it," Casey said. "We took their eggs." Yuri stood too fast and dropped his bottle. It shattered. The sound cracked across the ridge. The creatures answered. Dozens surged from the rock, tentacles lashing, moving toward the shack in a glowing tide. "Grab the crate," Casey said. "Now." Yuri hauled it. Casey backed away, scanner up. The needle spiked—a clean, strong reading—then dropped to nothing. The same silence as before. Something here noticed her. They ran for the shack. Casey slammed the hatch as the first creatures hit the panels. Wet slaps rang against the metal. She locked the crate of canisters in the corner. Eight sealed containers of glowing green. Worth a fortune. Yuri leaned on the wall, breathing hard, no bottle left to steady him. "They want it back," he said. "I know," Casey said. Outside, the tapping spread across every panel. The shack was surrounded. She had the material she came for. Now she had to keep it, and get off this planet alive.

The shack's walls bowed inward. Tentacles slapped the panels in a wet rhythm that never stopped. Casey watched a seam near the corner split. Green slime pushed through the gap. The creatures were close to breaking in. Behind her, the crate of sealed canisters glowed, still worth a fortune she might not live to spend. Yuri sat on the floor with his back to the buckling wall. He held a fresh bottle of vodka. She hadn't known he had a second one. He pulled the cork with his teeth and drank. "Give me some," Casey said. He stared at her. In a year of missions, she had never once asked. She always told him to work while she planned. Now she had no plan. He passed the bottle up. "To the money," he said. "To getting off this rock," she said, and drank. The vodka burned. She sat down beside him. The metal shook against her spine with every blow. They passed the bottle back and forth. The tapping grew louder, then split into a screech of claws on metal. Casey stopped counting the cracks in the wall. She thought about the pool of glowing green water she'd scanned that first hour, the one she'd meant to harvest next. She'd never touch it now. "You were a good boss," Yuri said. His words slurred together. "I was a cheap boss," Casey said. He laughed, and she laughed too, and for a moment the pounding didn't matter. Then the light changed. A thin gold line crept under the hatch. Casey blinked at it. The bottle was almost empty. She thought her eyes were lying. But the line widened into a warm glow across the floor. Outside, the screeching faltered. One creature shrieked. Then another. The wet slaps came slower. Casey pushed to her feet, swaying, and pressed her eye to the crack in the seam. Two suns were rising over the red rock. The first light hit the ridge and spread fast. The glowing octopus creatures writhed away from it. Their green bodies dimmed in the brightness. They dragged themselves toward the crevices and small caves in the rock, sliding into the dark, one after another. "Yuri," she said. "Look." He crawled to the crack and looked. The last creature vanished into a shadow. The ridge went quiet. Only the wind moved. Casey slid down the wall and sat hard. Her hands shook. She started to laugh, and it came out closer to crying. "They can't stand the light," she said. "That's it. That's the whole thing." Yuri raised the empty bottle. "Dawn," he said. Casey looked at the crate of canisters, then at the hatch, then at the sky through the crack. Daylight gave them hours. The shuttle sat on its landing pad across the ridge, waiting. She stood and unlocked the hatch. "We load the crate and we run," she said. "Before dark."

The suns cleared the ridge. Casey shoved the hatch open and dragged the crate outside. The canisters glowed green through the metal. Yuri grabbed the far handle and they hauled it across the rock toward the shuttle. Its side doors hung open, lit yellow inside. A hundred steps. Maybe less. Casey counted them under her breath. "Faster," she said. Her boots slipped on wet stone. The last creatures had left slime trails everywhere. Yuri didn't answer. He just leaned into the weight and pushed. Then an engine roared behind them. Casey turned. A grey rover tore across the ridge, kicking up red dust. She had never seen it before, but she knew what it meant. Someone else wanted the goo. Someone had known she was out here. The rover's gun swung toward them. A laser bolt cracked past her ear and burned a black line in the rock. The driver stood in the open hatch as the rover slowed. He was huge, dark green, his face hidden behind a black gas mask. He held his rifle steady and fired again. "Down!" Casey dropped behind the crate. Yuri hit the ground beside her. A bolt struck the crate and left a scorch mark. The canisters held. Casey pressed her back to the metal and pulled her scanner. It was no weapon. She had nothing that was. The green giant climbed out. "The shipment," he said. His voice was flat. "Leave it. Walk." "Who sent you?" Casey called. "No." He raised the rifle. He wanted them gone, or dead. She could hear which one he preferred. Casey looked at the crevices in the rock. Dark. Deep. The creatures were sleeping inside, waiting out the light. An idea landed hard and cold. She grabbed one canister from the crate and cracked its seal. "Yuri. Run for the doors on three." She hurled the canister at the giant's boots. It smashed. Green goo splashed across the stone and into the nearest crevice. The mercenary looked down. For a second he didn't understand. Then the slime began to move. Tentacles rose from the crack. A slick body pulled itself over his boot, then another, drawn to their stolen colony. The giant fired into them, but more came, wrapping his legs, his rifle arm. He roared behind the mask and stumbled back. "Three," Casey said. She and Yuri lifted the crate and ran. They shoved it through the shuttle doors and dove in after. Casey slammed the controls. The engines whined. Through the window she saw the mercenary tear free and drag himself to his rover. He didn't chase. He held his arm and watched them lift off. His mask turned to track the shuttle the whole way up. Seven canisters left, and a fortune still aboard. But he had seen her face. And he knew where the goo came from.

The shuttle broke atmosphere and Casey let the engines idle. Seven canisters sat strapped in the hold. Their green glow filled the cabin. She thought they were clear. Then Yuri pointed at a canister near the wall. Its seal had split during the run to the shuttle. Slime seeped from the crack and slid across the floor. "It's leaking," Yuri said. He backed away from it. Casey knelt by the canister. The goo was moving on its own. A small octopus creature pulled itself out through the crack. Its beady eyes glowed. It had woken up in the dark hold. And nothing here could hurt it the way the suns did. More followed. They spread across the metal floor and climbed the crate straps. Casey remembered the ridge. She remembered the walls of the shack breaking. These things attacked when their colony was stolen. She had seven canisters of stolen colony aboard. "Get the seals," she said. "Now." Yuri grabbed a strap and yanked. A tentacle wrapped his wrist and squeezed. He hissed and shook it loose. Casey pulled her scanner and swung it like a club. The creatures didn't fear it. They swarmed toward the warmest thing in the room, which was them. Casey looked at the shuttle's side doors. On the ridge, dawn had saved her. The suns burned the creatures back into the rock. There were no suns in here. But there was open space outside, and cold, and killing light from the star they orbited. "Yuri, brace on something." She grabbed a handhold by the wall. "You're not," he said. "I am." She hit the door release. The side doors cracked open. Air screamed out. The pull dragged everything loose toward the gap. Loose slime slid past her boots. The creatures lost their grip on the straps one by one and tumbled toward the doors. Casey held the rail with both hands. Yuri clung to a strap and shouted something she couldn't hear. One creature caught the leaking canister with a tentacle. Both flew toward the doors together. The canister struck the frame, split fully, and vanished into the dark with the creature still wrapped around it. Six canisters left. The rest held in their seals, strapped tight. Casey slammed the doors shut. The screaming stopped. She dropped to the floor, breathing hard. The cabin was empty of moving things now. Just slime trails and six sealed canisters, glowing steady. Yuri stared at the wet floor. "We lost one more." "We kept six." Casey wiped her glasses on her sleeve. Six canisters was still a fortune. Still enough exotic material to sell for the price she came out here to earn. Then the console beeped. A ship pinged them on the open channel. The voice was flat and clipped. "The shipment," it said. "You should have walked." Casey knew that voice. The green giant from the ridge. He hadn't stayed behind. He had followed her off the planet, and now he was up here with her.

The green giant's voice cut out. A second later the shuttle rocked. Something heavy slammed into the hull. Casey's console lit red. The bounty hunter's ship had caught them, and a grapple line reeled the shuttle down toward the ridge below. The engines screamed and lost. They fell. They crashed hard beside the old shack. Casey and Yuri crawled out and dragged two canisters into the grey shelter. The rest stayed pinned in the wreck. Casey slammed the shack door and pressed her back to the wall. Outside, the red rock stretched up in jagged slopes. A laser bolt punched through the metal above her head. Then another. Casey knew who fired. The armored bounty hunter had chased them from the planet's surface. He wore a black gas mask and green skin showed above it. His crime lord wanted the goo, and he would kill them to take it. "He'll cut us apart," Yuri said. He didn't move. He held the vodka bottle he'd carried since orbit. Casey checked her scanner. It caught new movement in the crevices. The crash had cracked the two canisters. Slime seeped out across the floor. The small octopus creatures pulled free. Their beady eyes glowed. They spread toward the wall where the crevices ran deep into the rock. "Casey." Yuri's voice went flat and strange. A creature climbed his boot. Another wrapped his neck. His eyes fixed on nothing. He raised the bottle and drank, long and steady, like something else moved his hand. Casey grabbed for him. A creature caught her wrist. Cold pressure spread up her arm. Her thoughts blurred. She saw the ridge through beady eyes for one sick second. The colony wanted the shipment stopped. It wanted the hull opened. It wanted the shooting to end. Yuri lowered the empty bottle. His free hand moved to his suit pocket. He pulled out a small grey detonator. Casey didn't know he carried it. He didn't look at it. He pressed the button. Outside, the sky flashed white. A charge dropped from the wrecked shuttle's belly and struck the ridge. The blast threw the bounty hunter off his feet. It scattered his rover in pieces of dark grey metal. The shack shook. Dust rained from the ceiling. The creatures let go. Light poured through the blown wall. Not sunlight, but bright enough. They shrank back into the crevices and vanished. Casey's mind cleared. She gasped and dropped to her knees. Yuri blinked. He stared at the detonator in his hand. "I didn't decide that," he said. Casey looked through the hole in the wall. The bounty hunter lay still in the rubble. His rifle lay ten feet from his glove. But the two canisters were empty now. The colony had used them to reach her, and it had used Yuri's hand to save them both. She pulled Yuri up. "Grab whatever's left in the wreck," she said. "They're not done with us."