Daros, page 34
This chamber did not look like a mine, or like the interior of a creature. It looked like a room designed for a particular purpose. Perhaps a ceremony. It had a raised circular platform at the center, with low steps leading up on all sides. At the front of the platform was a stone pedestal rising from the floor to a meter or two in height. At the rear of the platform, a pair of concentric circles had been carved into the floor, the outer one a meter across, the inner a bit less. At the front of the room, opposite the entrance and past the platform, a wall extended upward, meeting the high ceiling at an angle. And that wall was covered with glowing dots, twinkling in the low light. The humans had not installed as many lights here, so she could see the glow. A few of the specks were red, but most where white.
At first, it seemed like a random assortment of specks, such as inclusions in a crystal, or the growth of colonies of microorganisms on a growth medium. But as she looked, she could see patterns in the glowing marks. There were clusters, and the glowing specks were different sizes.
Control.
“What do you mean?”
Approach.
Use.
There was only one really obvious feature in the room. The pedestal. Frim moved over to it and put a hand out to touch it. As she did, the glowing specks on the wall shimmered and shifted. A protrusion emerged from the side of the pedestal, about halfway down. It was a small symmetric lump, no wider across than her largest digit.
Avoid.
Guzma’s projection was intense. Unbidden, Frim’s mind filled with a vision of the lump. Guzma was forcing it on her.
Avoid.
Avoid.
Avoid.
Death.
Tragedy.
Murder.
Despair.
Apparently, Guzma did not want her touching that. “I understand. I will not touch it.”
She pulled her hand back from the pedestal, looking at the new pattern on the wall. She was beginning to recognize what was written there in the lights. She put her hand back on the top of the pedestal and moved her digits along it. The specks moved in response, whirling past and around each other on unseen axes. As she moved her digits around the surface, she became accustomed to its operation, and she was able to make the specks behave more or less as she wished.
And that is when she confirmed her suspicions. This was a display. And the specks were stars. It took some work to orient the stars in the way she normally saw them arranged, with Enzok over on the left side, on the limb of a spiral of stars. That put Daros in the middle somewhere, far from home. She could name many of stars, and she even knew the major planets orbiting most of those, but there were more shown that she’d never visited, that nobody had visited. Systems that were unknown to the Zeelin.
What were the red ones? She studied the pattern. Most of the red ones were clustered in one area, but there were others more distant. That clustered area was near the center of the Old Ones’ empire. One of the red specks was very familiar. It was Daros. Frim had a thought. Were they the locations of installations like this? Of the Homitta?
Affirmative.
“I see. So there are others?” Frim raised her scanner and had it record and analyze a copy of the galactic map, marking the red locations.
Broken.
Defunct.
Most.
“But this one still works. It just came alive again, not long ago. That’s why you’re here. Why everybody is here.”
Restoration.
“Is that what this place does? How do you want to use it?”
Dispersal.
Revitalization.
Resurrection.
Frim pondered this. “This place assists with travel? Or healing?”
Rebirth.
Guzma formed another concept into her mind, but this one wasn’t recognizable as a word. It was a pattern, an arrangement of points, and one of them was brighter than the others. A target. Frim moved her hand across the pedestal’s surface, studying the specks on the display as they whirled about in three dimensions, flattened onto the surface of the wall.
After a time, she spotted it. She should have spotted it sooner, because it had been mentioned in the briefing she’d studied long ago, right when this mission began, before entering stasis for the trip to this world. Although she’d never been to this star, she knew it, because it was important. It was important because it was a part of the story of the Old Ones, the Kenthar. The part that led to their demise.
The speck Guzma wanted her to see was the one the Kenthar never should have conquered. The people they never should have killed. Frim did not know what the Kenthar called it. Or what the Mara Shi had called it, in their speech, if they even had a spoken language. But whatever their language, she knew they called it home.
Frim looked down at Guzma. Or rather, his box. She thought for a moment. Then for a moment more. Her thought made little sense, yet it was an attractive idea. It could not hurt to ask. “Guzma. Are you Mara Shi?”
Negative.
Extinct.
Paradox.
Affirmative.
Reborn.
73
Phone A Friend
“The building is inaccessible.” Koro pounded on the door in frustration, all four arms flailing. “That means Homitta is inaccessible.”
Lyra spoke through the Sigil. “My weapons cannot penetrate the walls, not without the facility’s weapons destroying me. The building is heavily fortified.”
“Hey, you’re back.” Brecca wanted to know why Lyra had shot the mountainside, but Lyra hadn’t answered before. Brecca figured Lyra had a good reason, and she decided not to pry. It might relate to Frim. Brecca still wasn’t sure how the Kenthar would react to Frim. A Zeelin here might set them off in a really bad direction. They’d been killing Zeelin all morning, and they might not wait to see if this new one was friendly. Or believe that it was even possible.
Guzma had reacted poorly to the Kenthar as well. That was troubling. If the Kenthar could be believed, they had only good intentions. But Guzma really didn’t like them. Beyond that, Guzma’s intentions were a mystery, other than protecting Homitta. Maybe he was up to something. Too many unknowns.
Lyra spoke again. “I regret to inform you that the remaining Zeelin are organizing. They are approaching. I detect objects with them that are emitting the same sequence of codes that your security passes do. I fear they may also be able to access the compound. They carry numerous items that appear to be weapons.”
“That’s not good.”
“Humans enjoy stating obvious conclusions known to all listeners. It is inefficient and somewhat aggravating. There is more. I have detected smaller craft being released from the capital ships overhead. They are similar to those we saw as we approached, most of which the humans destroyed. However, the remaining human stronghold has not fired in some time. They may have been overrun or destroyed, or they may have reached a concord with the Zeelin, or they may have surrendered. I suspect these landing craft will be able to descend without incident.”
“How long until they get here?”
“Question level: Basic, important. The landing craft are regulating their speed to avoid heating. They will likely accelerate their descent once they reach adequate pressure and can begin atmospheric flight. Based on their heat shielding and observance of past descents, I estimate they will land between 38.24 minutes and 61.86 minutes. Their apparent path likely puts them down within two kilometers of this site. However, the Zeelin ground forces will likely arrive at your location before that time.”
“Then we’ve got to get this done. Or the Zeelin win.” Brecca thought hard. “Lyra, can you patch me to the nearest ground-based communications network?”
Bong, bing. “Argument level: Basic, interesting. Argument is valid. This base is connected to the network, and it is powered. I can serve as a relay broadcast point to other segments of the network that are also still powered, in place of the satellite link they normally use. But I do not know what you intend.”
“No time to explain, Lyra. You’ll have to trust me. Get me on there. Broad reach, emergency channel, to all listening.”
There was a pause. “You have access. Speak when ready.”
Brecca took a deep breath. “Daros network, this is Brecca Vereen. Seeking emergency communication with Captain Jerrin, Zinglar CorpSec. Utmost urgency.” She repeated the message twice, then waited. There was a pause. Two seconds. Five. Ten. Brecca began to grow anxious. This really was a gamble, and maybe it wouldn’t work. There were twenty or thirty reasons why it might not.
“Hey there, kid.” Jerrin’s voice was warm, firm, just as Brecca remembered from the cave. “Glad you’re not dead. Switching to encrypted channel 3.1881, please follow.”
Lyra chimed in a moment later. “Specified channel accessed. Speak when ready.”
“Jerrin. I’m glad you’re all right too. I need your help. I’m at the secure facility at the coordinates mentioned in the emergency message we heard in the cave.”
“Skogol.” Jerrin paused. “What the hell are you up to?”
“Trying to eliminate the Zeelin threat by disabling their objective.” I hope.
Jerrin laughed. “When this is all over, if we both make it, I’m going to have to buy you a Terulian whiskey and have you explain. Explain a whole bunch of things.”
“I probably shouldn’t be drinking that yet. I hear it’s pretty strong. Maybe in a few years. But I’ll gladly meet you, and I’ll buy you all the whiskey you want if you can help me now.”
“What do you need?”
“I need you to unlock the facility for me. Get me in the Operations center, let me try to access the mine here. Do you have clearance, or access, or whatever it would take?”
There was a delay. “I do, but that’s a big violation of procedure. Like, an I-never-work-again violation.” Brecca heard her cursing. “Is there another way I could help?”
“No, there’s not. Look, I don’t think you’re going to get in trouble for something you do when the planet’s invaded and everything’s in shambles. There’s probably not a job to come back to, anyway. And I need this now. Zeelin are approaching our position, and we’re running out of time to get this done.” Whatever this was. And if she could even do it.
There was a long pause.
“Look, if I don’t try this, then the Zeelin are coming. They can blast their way in. The door’s only stopping me, not them. If they get in, they’ll get what they came here for. I don’t know exactly what that would mean, but I have a feeling it would be really bad. Right?”
Brecca waited. Two seconds. Five.
“Rhee says I should trust you. That means I’m officially including her in the chain of responsibility for this felonious action. I’ll need a cellmate for when this goes bad, and she gives good back rubs.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“I’ll do it.” There was a pause. “I’m sending an access code through the link here. It should open the Operations facility and grant you emergency admin privileges.”
“Thanks, Jerrin. You’re the best.”
“Just don’t get killed. Or steal a lot of stuff. I’ll look really stupid then.”
“You got it.” There was a squeal of comms noise, and the link went dead. Brecca heard the locking bars retract all around the edges of the door to Operations. She pulled on the door handle, and the heavy door swung open.
74
Operations Overlord
She moved inside, and the lights came on as she entered as they had in the Infirmary. The Kenthar followed. This was a much fancier building than any other she’d been in on Daros. The first room had several cluttered desks built into the walls and a large worktable in the center. The displays built into it showed schematics, pictures of an underground chamber, and a whole bunch of what looked like fractal writing. It was intriguing, but there wasn’t time to investigate. Brecca pushed deeper into the building. The next room had a large holoscreen platform built into the floor. The holo was set to show Daros and all orbital and suborbital traffic, but with the satellite network down, the data on ships was limited. It looked like ground-based sensors picked up some craft (red, marked “Unknown”), but they flickered in and out as they entered and left the range of the sensors, turning transparent as the computer projected their course. Brecca quickly oriented herself, finding the network of mining stations, then Daros Ten, the well-defended station near her. There were some ships above, and she could see some dots flagged with a downward trajectory. Probably the drop ships.
She didn’t know exactly what to do, or what access Jerrin had given her. She moved over to what looked like the central control station, covered with readouts of energy use, food supplies, payroll, and other information. She pressed a few buttons, but she couldn’t get the panel to do much. Time to try something else. “Operations systems control, this is Brecca Vereen. I have been granted emergency administrator access to this station by Zinglar CorpSec, Captain Jerrin. Please acknowledge.”
“Request processed. Access granted. Emergency message recorded, cued for next system user. Play holorecording?”
“Sure, why not.”
The image of Daros disappeared, replaced by a man in a long white coat. He had wide eyes and messy hair sticking up in tufts. On his chin was a prominent goatee. His image looked straight at Brecca, almost like he could see her. “This is Chief Xenoarcheologist Doctor Kelvin Boom reporting from Station Daros Ten-Slash-X1, local calendar date 9-18. The planet is being invaded by a hostile military force.” His voice was wild, unsteady, and he paused to pull a square of purple cloth from his pocket. He unfolded it and wiped his face. “There are a lot of ships up there, and we’ve seen friendlies falling from orbit, burning up. The satellite network is down, so our information isn’t good. We’ve tracked hostile craft descending nearby. I bet this station is their target. It has to be. We never should have broken the wall. I told them that.” He took a big, wheezy, shaky breath. “Anggh. The mining crew has already left. They took the good trucks. The science team wants to leave too. Gin is already gone, I think. She said she was getting out, took her stuff.” He wiped his face again.
“We saw some ships coming down towards the facility here. Red ships, not human ones. Creepy and smooth. Daros Ten shot them down. I’ve seen the guns there, but I didn’t know they were that powerful. Wow. But I think we’re losing. We’ve lost contact with everybody else except Ten. Our orders are to stay here and secure the station, but we’ve talked, and we’ve decided we’re not dying for Zinglar. This whole thing stinks, anyway. What they’ve had us do is illegal. Hear that? Illegal. I will testify in exchange for immunity.”
From outside the camera’s view, an indistinct voice said something, and Boom turned toward it and scowled. “I don’t care if it’s an admission of guilt. It’s going to be obvious what we were doing after this mess goes public. They can’t cover up after an invasion. This place will be crawling with Patrol. If it’s not crawling with whatever alien menace we’ve unleashed.”
He turned back to face the camera. “We’re leaving. We can’t close the gate remotely. That takes the satellite network, and it’s down. But we’ve set the installation’s defenses on lockdown, and they will still operate. We all have security tags, so we can come back when this is over and reestablish control. Nobody unauthorized should be able to get in. And if they do get in, past all these expensive guns, then I really don’t want to mess with them. The charges will blow and bury the site if the door is opened without authorization, so that should keep them out, or at least occupied. Maybe they know what this place does. Or maybe they’re its offspring, or its builders. We haven’t been able to figure it out in over a year of trying, except for those rumors about a superweapon. Hardly worth risking arrest or death for. I’m going to go find a metal box somewhere and lock myself in it until this is over. Heaven help us. I never should have taken this job. Joola was right. Boom out.”
The holo flickered off. Brecca hoped Dr. Boom had made it to his metal box, or somewhere safe. But he was no help with the door.
Now Brecca had to think. Figuring out the mystery of this place, and keeping it from the Zeelin, was part of what she came here to do, after trying to save her father. This was Evon’s goal, and Lyra’s, now passed on to her. She wanted to try to stop the Zeelin, to shut it down, or blow it up, or just prevent access to anyone. Maybe it would be better to leave it closed. If the Zeelin came, they’d get into the base, but they might not be able to get through the door into the mountain. If she opened the door, that could remove an obstacle. Although she could probably close it from inside. And if she stayed outside, then she and Lyra were likely to be killed by the Zeelin when they arrived. Along with Frim and Guzma, wherever they were, and her father. If he wasn’t already dead. She felt a wave of grief run through her at that thought. She tried to push it back down.
So staying outside was probably bad. What was the right thing to do here? The right thing was to fight back, to keep the invaders from their goal. And the only way to ensure that, to do something useful, would be to get into the site. Outside, she couldn’t do anything. Inside, she might be able to lock it down, or blow it up, or break it, or defend it. She couldn’t do anything from outside except die.
Getting in seemed like her play here. Except she had a major potential liability. The Kenthar. If she got in, they’d get in. And that could be bad. They might be no better than the Zeelin. They said they’d atoned, that they wanted to prevent anyone from using the site. She had to decide if she could trust them. Laid against that trust were their threats, and their willingness to use her and her father as trading stock for their goals. But in a way, that was consistent with their stated objectives. To get in at any cost, to defend the facility. They’d already fought the invaders. And they’d helped bring her father from the ship without too much complaining when she asked. They could have threatened to fire on her rather than getting her dad, or they could have murdered her as soon as they got in, or they could have held her and her father at gunpoint and told her to open the door into the mountain. They hadn’t. They’d let her try to treat him. They hadn’t gone all murdery when Lyra fired at the rock wall, either. They were acting like partners, not like villains. They seemed to be trusting her.
