Daros, page 32
“We needed to eliminate their threat to the site.” The beast raised its head and bellowed, and Koro pulled its reins down to quiet it. “We killed many. We scattered them and damaged their weapons and ship, but they are not eliminated. Though we are fierce, and imbued with the Deity’s purpose, we lack the numbers and weapons to be certain to prevail. And their reinforcements will land, now. The humans are no longer firing on their ships. Their numbers may become overwhelming.”
“There are nine Zeelin still active in the area,” said Lyra from Brecca’s wrist. “They are not moving now. I will monitor them.” Great. More people she didn’t want or need. But at least they weren’t an immediate threat.
“How’s your cloak holding up?” Brecca murmured to Lyra.
“Question level: Basic, informational. Remaining stationary has decreased drain, but sporadic interference persists. Estimate no longer than 78.44 minutes at 90% effectiveness, unless I return to orbit, or shut it down to conserve power.”
Not good. Brecca needed to get her father off the ship and get him into the infirmary here. That was his only hope. But she couldn’t carry him alone. She was hoping Frim could help, once they figured out if there was a way in. But she couldn’t send Frim out there with the Kenthar. They’d most likely kill her, and probably take her presence as a massive betrayal.
None of the other options were any good either. Just leaving the Kenthar outside the gate would keep her and Frim out of danger, because the Kenthar couldn’t approach without being shot. But they might start shelling the base, and even if they didn’t, her dad would be stuck on the ship, dying, and the ship’s cloak would wear off, and the rest of the Zeelin would come, and they probably had security passes to access the compound. Then everybody died, and the Zeelin won. If she let the Kenthar in, she lost all advantage over them, and her father and Lyra probably died when the Zeelin came. And then the Kenthar would use the site for whatever they were after, which, based on Frim’s information, was probably starting a new thousand years of subjugation.
She had a thought. A desperate one, but it might at least get her somewhere. Nothing else to try. “Koro. I have honored our agreement. But my father is not yet healed. I need you to fetch him from my ship and bring him here. I cannot carry him. I’ll meet you with the security pass so that we can enter. The ship is not far behind you, cloaked.” She pointed to where they’d landed.
“That will use up valuable time.”
Brecca couldn’t hear inflection in Koro’s words, but she had to assume the Kenthar was unhappy at the delay. “It is the only way I will cooperate. I’m sorry, but you know this is my goal.”
“What are you doing, Brecca?” Lyra asked, the volume low.
“Improvising. Failing. I don’t know. But I need him here, and I can’t carry him,” Brecca whispered back. “Show them the hatch.”
Koro turned to follow Brecca’s finger. Tuvo turned as well. That gave Brecca a chance for a glance behind her. Frim was nowhere to be seen, and Guzma was gone, too. That was something. Brecca hoped they were hiding, or finding a way past the door, or doing something useful.
Bong, bing. “Argument level: Complex, desperate, idiotic. Argument is valid. I guess. I hope you know what you are doing.” The door to the ship shimmered into view behind the Kenthar.
Koro spoke to Tuvo, and he moved to the ship. The door slid up. He hunched and disappeared into the doorway.
“Lyra,” hissed Brecca. “Revive my dad. Produce him for Tuvo. I’m assuming they’ll bring him up here. Once he’s off the ship, get in the air, out of range of the weapons here. If something goes wrong, if the Kenthar do something bad, then shoot them. We can’t let them get through the big door in the mountain. At least not unless we know what they’re trying to do in there. It doesn’t matter if I get hurt. This is bigger than me. Stop them, stop the Zeelin, do what you need to do. Frim can be your interlocutor. She’d probably be better at it, anyway. And she has Guzma now.”
Bong, bing. “Argument level: Complex, heroic, desperate. Argument is valid. I do not like it, but I accept it. But I will try to avoid injuring you if I can.” There was a pause. “The Kenthar called Tuvo has your father. I regret to say that your father’s condition has worsened during the cryogenic interlude. Recommend medical measures be applied immediately.”
Worse and worse. Brecca saw Tuvo emerge. He had her father slung over his shoulder. Nellen was wearing a skin-tight yellow bodysuit. That must be the thermal coating Lyra had mentioned. Yellow seemed to be the only color Vonar clothing came in. Brecca cringed as her father jostled with the Kenthar’s steps. But she needed to get him up here. She took a deep breath and walked down to join Koro.
Tuvo arrived as she did. This was going to be a little delicate. Corax had said the security passes would protect whoever she was with. That would help. “We can all go up as long as you stay with me. Don’t get far from me, or the defensive weapons will activate.” She didn’t know if that was entirely true, but she thought that was probably how it worked, and sounding confident now was probably useful.
Koro bowed her head. “Understood.” She spoke to Tuvo, and he came nearer. Koro tapped the metal plate in the harness on the beast’s head. It chirped twice. She slapped the backside of the beast. It spun around, and she pulled on the harness to halt its turning. She touched some controls on the side of the weapon mounted to its back. “This should occupy the Zeelin for a time when they come.” She tucked the lead rope into the front of the harness. The creature stood placidly by. “We are ready now?”
“I am,” said Brecca. She took another look at her father. His eyes were closed, but she saw his chest moving. She could hear his breath hissing in and out, slow and wet. It hurt to hear him like that. “Tell Tuvo to be careful with him.”
Koro uttered a few words. Tuvo straightened his shoulders and adjusted Nellen’s position.
Nothing for it. “All right, let’s go.” The ship doorway vanished with a flicker. Brecca started back up the dusty track to the facility, the two Kenthar close behind.
69
No Way
Locked. Again. That was the last of the doors. There was no way into the Operations building. If that was even the right one. Rin’s gift of linguistic training was tremendously useful, but there were still nuances that Frim lacked. The best she could guess was that Operations should be a command center. Frim could hear steps coming up the track into the compound. She and Guzma were on the back side of the building, hidden from view, in a narrow gap between the building and the towering rock wall.
A sign pointed the way to latrines – presumably why the building had a back door here. Frim could smell ammonia and a host of other odors. Humans seemed to be messy with their metabolic waste, as many species were, even sentient ones. Imagine, using precious fluids for such a purpose, and worse still, discarding them into the environment, and in a communal space. Frim wondered what part of the human body they emerged from. Regardless, the whole process must be terribly inefficient, not to mention disgusting.
Ventilation.
Of course, there would need to be ventilation for the latrine. Otherwise noxious gases would build up. But it was odd that Guzma had fixated on this. Presumably, he had larger concerns. As Frim did. She checked her scanner. The Kenthar were at the gate with their beast and with Brecca. They had another human. Probably Brecca’s father. The close bond she shared with the one who had provided gametes was odd. Frim had no idea who had budded her or who had provided the gametes. Both were more than likely dead before the hatchery had selected her for maturation and indoctrination. She’d never conceived of the idea of trying to find out. There would be no record. But the human seemed very devoted. Perhaps it was like some animals Frim had read of, where parental care improved survival. An emotional bond, even one that made little sense, might make that survival strategy more successful. Interesting.
Ventilation.
Frim looked down at the box. It was even stranger that Guzma would repeat the word. “Do you need to be released? Do you need ventilation?”
Ingress.
Homitta.
Above.
Frim looked up. There was a round metal cover set into the hillside, almost as wide across as Frim was tall. It had long horizontal slots cut into it. Gas exchange, for the space inside the hill, behind the massive door. “You want me to go through that?” It was perhaps two meters off the ground. She could climb up there, but only if she could remove the grille. And if the humans were clever, and cared about the security of the place, that would be very difficult, if not impossible. Of course, the humans had installed their ventilation shaft near the latrine, so perhaps they were not so clever.
Frim looked around for something to use to pry the metal cover off, which would be a dubious prospect at best. There was nothing apparent. She could go back into the courtyard. There were the vehicles and other gear there. But that would reveal her to the Kenthar.
Duck.
A hail of repeated weapons fire strafed the hillside, beams slapping into the rock. Gravel rained down along with some molten blobs of metal. Frim ducked, but she spared a glance up to see what was shooting. Was it the Kenthar? Their weapons had been explosive shells, not beams. The commandos, then? But were they airborne? She did not have much of a view of the sky. As she looked up, though, she saw a shimmer in the air, and the yellow Vonar ship blinked into view, then vanished. Lyra. Frim heard the motors of the weapons at the gate whine. Tracking the ship, no doubt, but if the ship could stay cloaked, they would probably not be able to hit it. She hoped the cloak would last. There was a more ponderous groan from the top of the building above her. Probably the big gun up there trying to get a shot off as well. But the gun sounds ceased almost as soon as they began.
Ingress.
Frim looked up at the metal grille. It was heavily damaged from the beam strikes. Some of the slats were cut through, and most of the fasteners holding it to the cliff face had been shot away. The grille groaned, then popped, and then it rotated downward on one remaining peg, scraping down the hillside and coming to rest on a boulder. There was an opening now for Frim. It would be tight, but she should be able to get in, especially if the metal had some give to it. She looked down at Guzma again. “Did you tell Lyra to fire?”
Affirmative.
“That was dangerous. The Kenthar might come looking. We could have been hurt. The ship could have been shot down. My fleet could have spotted it.”
Gamble.
That much was true. For an inert creature in a box, Guzma was surprisingly decisive. And willing to risk the safety of others. Frim stepped up on a ledge in the rocky hillside. She could get her arm into the ventilation shaft easily, probably with enough purchase to pull herself up. She wanted to get in there before the Kenthar came to look. With her other arm, she heaved Guzma up into the hole, then clambered up the hillside, using the grille at times, and slid headfirst into the shaft. She stopped to breathe for a moment. She pulled her scanner up in front of her eye, hoping to see where the tunnel went. If it could even scan anything inside the rocky tunnel.
Faster.
Danger.
“They’re coming? The Kenthar?” That was bad.
Vacate.
Frim got herself up to a crouch, then grabbed Guzma and scuttled down the hole. From behind her, there was more weapons fire. Lyra again. She heard beams impact the hillside, a longer volley this time. Then, there was a rumble, and everything went dark. Not because she was unconscious, but because the mouth of the shaft had collapsed.
No way out. Frim touched her scanner. It wasn’t intended as a light source, but its display gave off enough light to see a little bit of the shaft before her. The scanner couldn’t detect much in here, surrounded by rock, but the screen showed the shaft cutting through ten more meters of rock, then dipping down, then continuing inward. Dragging Guzma behind her, she moved onward, deeper into the hillside.
70
The Thirty-Four
Brecca reached for the handle to the infirmary door. The place had better be open. Or she’d have to force it open. And then the place had better have power. And allow people to access it. So many things could go wrong. Tuvo stood silently by, Nellen over his shoulder, while Koro studied the facility map panel. Brecca had expected Koro to demand one of the security passes, or just to take them from her, but once the Kenthar were inside the compound, they’d been cooperative, even polite. It was a puzzle.
Brecca tugged, and with a click, the door swung open. She hurried inside. Lights came on gradually as she entered. There was a waist-high table, padded, with contours to fit a person. A console sat nearby, a Nollix Surg-Pro 2300. She had no sense of its capabilities, but that sounded potentially useful. A variety of instruments – blades, probes, sensors, cutting beams, clamps – were suspended from jointed arms above the table. They all looked organized and compact, probably in storage position.
“Put him on there, please.” She pointed to the table. Tuvo didn’t understand her words, but he seemed to get the picture. He tipped Nellen off his shoulder, and using all four arms, placed him carefully on his back on the table. Then he stepped back. Brecca went over to the console. It had some elements in common with the medical systems she’d studied, but this was much more complex than her training had covered. Lots of buttons, lots of menus, names for unfamiliar procedures, or maybe they were body parts. She hoped it was pretty well automated. And that it would work even without an operator or physician present. At least, not a competent one.
Nellen’s bodysuit had a seam down the front. Brecca pulled at it, and it parted with a sticky sound. She opened it down to the waist and peeled it to each side to expose his chest. The major wound there was still raw. The dressing she’d applied earlier was gone, and Lyra had put a transparent adhesive film over his wounds, but she could see the injury and the burns underneath. He was still a mess. His skin was cool to the touch, maybe from the cryo stasis. Tuvo made a noise, pointed at the door, then walked out.
One of the largest buttons on the screen was labeled Diagnosis. Brecca pressed it, and the machine emitted a musical tone and then a series of hums and whines. “Working,” it said. “Please stand back for safety.” Brecca took a step back, and several of the arms whined into motion and circled around Nellen, poking and touching him, inserting probes into his mouth and skin, scanning him. The console showed a timer counting down as the machine worked. It would be several minutes. Ailments began popping up on the screen. Temperature below normal. Glomerular filtration low. Heartbeat irregular. Incipient jaundice. Elevated urine albumin. Evidence of internal injury. Incipient sepsis. Those all sounded bad.
There was a series of blasts from outside. At first, Brecca thought something was falling onto the building, but as it continued, she realized it was probably weapons fire. Had the defenses activated? Were the Zeelin here already? Or had the defenses taken out Koro? Tuvo moved for the door. Brecca took a step, then hesitated. She didn’t want to leave her father, but she needed to know what was going on, and the medical bay was still running its routine. There wasn’t any way for Brecca to help. She risked stepping outside.
Koro and Tuvo were there, arguing. They were looking up at the sky. Whatever it was had come from the air, then. She tasted dust in the air, and there was a metallic smell. Maybe ozone? “What happened? Are we under attack?”
Koro turned to Brecca. “Is this an ambush? Have you betrayed us?” Her words were sharp.
Was it Frim who’d done this? This situation had too many unknowns – too many people in play whom she didn’t know or trust. Well, Frim had seemed all right. But who knew? “No, I don’t know what’s going on. What happened?”
“A ship shot at the side of the hill.” Koro pointed at the rocky hillside.
Brecca saw a series of scorch marks etched into the stones, along with some fresh scars, where the rock showed white and speckled rather than dusty and red. The line of marks descended down behind the Operations building out of view. Had something shot at Frim? “What kind of ship was it? How big? Is it still here?” She looked at the sky.
“It was small. Fast. Yellow. And it vanished.” Koro pointed at the sky with her lower-right arm. “Up there. Gone.”
Lyra, then. But what was she doing? Brecca considered. No choice but to trust her. And she needed to calm down the Kenthar. “That’s my ship. I don’t know what she’s doing, but she’s an ally. I’m sure she has a reason. We’re safe.” Brecca hoped that was actually true.
“The one who spoke on your arm?” Koro nodded at Brecca’s armband.
“Yes.” That gave Brecca a thought. “Lyra, what are you doing? Why are you shooting?”
There was no answer. But then more beams blazed out of the sky, striking the rocks. The yellow ship streaked over them, only maybe thirty meters up. This time, they shots were concentrated in one spot, the guns rotating as the ship passed. Brecca couldn’t see what Lyra was hitting, though. It was behind the building, back near the rock face. There was a rumble that lasted a few seconds, and dust rose in a cloud above the building’s roof. “Lyra? What’s going on? Answer, please.”
The guns mounted at the gate whined into motion and spun to track Lyra. No, Brecca implored. Stop. Lyra didn’t have a security pass. That was stupid. Brecca should have left one on the ship, but she didn’t trust the passes, and she wanted both in case one didn’t work. The guns spun into line with the ship’s flight path, and Lyra began to fly an unsteady course, evading. Even the big gun on the operations building ground upward toward the ship. But then the yellow ship vanished, rippling into invisibility. The guns held their position for a moment, then spun back down to face the courtyard.
“Why does it not answer?” Koro demanded.
“I don’t know.” Brecca stared after the ship. “Look, it’s fine. The ship won’t put us in danger.” Well, unless the Kenthar made a hostile move, or went for the big metal door. But they didn’t need to know that. “I need to check on my father.”
