Andre said, “Well, bring them on. They’ve lost some O2. They’ve lost lots of time. They probably are fine for food but water in those suits can’t last long.”
Rojas said, “I’m trying to calculate their power use for cooling, based on that suit model and probable power pack. It looks like they’ll need a recharge every couple of hours.”
“Yep, some of them are already rotating back to the trucks.”
“The question is how many spares they have.”
Godin said, “Well, they’re rolling up a fourth vehicle.”
Crawford looked at the scene. “Interesting. I expect they’re tapped out now.”
Godin had data on his screen. “Given the size of the lander, I don’t see how they could have more, unless they ripped out safety equipment or power or air margin to make room. I don’t think they had any expectation of having to do more than secure the corridors.”
“I agree. What’s here has to be it.”
Godin said, “But it looks like the outside troops did a complete change of power, and possibly refilled their water. I think they have eighty to eighty-six effectives, assuming four crew and command in each vehicle, minus the six we have.”
Crawford wiggled his fingers as he counted, and said, “If we can detain another twenty or so, I think they’ll stop. Of course, that’s temporary, not permanent.”
Godin said, “We can dust that support truck in about thirty minutes.”
“Good. We can’t really pick a time, either. Once she’s committed, it’s all or nothing.”
Godin said, “They’re stacking.”
“Yeah, I see.”
They were professional. They formed up as if they expected an armed reception, then spilled in through the open hatch.
They shuffled around and forward, feet in good contact with the ground, weapons and eyes panning all sides, above and below.
“I guess we can drop that support now,” Rojas said.
“Yes,” Andre agreed.
Several of the troops were right atop the classic pitfall they’d hurriedly excavated under the deck. The bolts for the plates had been removed, and pull pins inserted in their place. The hole underneath had been filled with a binary cement that would set quickly once the seal was broken. It hadn’t been used on the first round both to save it for the second round, and because there’d only been three soldiers. There were at least twenty now.
“Do it,” he said.
She tapped her controls, the deck plating opened up under several of them and they went down in a tangle. The others formed a circle facing in and another facing out, protecting their mates and looking for a threat.
The Uey radio chatter was encoded now, and the Loonie systems hadn’t cracked it yet. There was lots of traffic, though.
He couldn’t see well from the monitors available, but at a guess, six of them were in the hole.
Some of those above reached down and tried to pull their friends out. One of them got his hand stuck and started kicking in agitation. He wasn’t going anywhere, either.
“I wish we had popcorn,” Godin said.
Crawford grinned. “It is amusing. We know it’s not lethal, and it’s just going to stick worse for a bit. They’re definitely tied up.”
He isolated still images and counted.
“Looks like seven in the hole and twelve more on top trying to help them, plus four sentries.”
The troops’ approach was still professional. The perimeter guards turned to watching the bay. One of them walked around, pointing his weapon, and one by one the cameras went dead. Shot.
One sensor remained functional. There was a device mounted behind the lock control that looked in, ostensibly to check the outside of incoming vehicles. It was a thermal imager. That worked, and Andre even had a frequency shifter to put it into something easier to parse.
The Ueys worked feverishly, pulling, trying to cut, prying with tools, lowering cords. More and more stuff, more limbs of those in the hole, and occasional rescuers got bound in. The volatiles were almost evaporated by this point, so it wasn’t going to get worse. It wasn’t going to get better, either.
Two troops came in unspooling something.
Godin said, “Support conduit. Oxygen line and a power cable. They’re trying to establish a beachhead with outside support. Just like we do in a crater study.”
“Right. I wonder if they brought a solar array or are just working off onboard power?”
Morton said, “If they did, it lengthens their engagement time, but not significantly. I’m estimating they started with twelve hours of duration, assuming they brought full capability. They’ve used four.”
Just to split Arris’s attention, Crawford called him.
“It’s like this, Colonel: you can get in there and we can’t really stop you. You can eventually find a way to cut your men free. In the meantime, you’ll be running oxygen to them and your rescue element, exposed to anything we would choose to do, and hindering your own advance. My suggestion is to let us release them, since we have the solvent right here. Then, of course, we keep them until we resolve this.”
Arris sounded frustrated but very formal as he said, “That is not within my operational limits at this time.”
“Fair enough. Well, good luck.” He closed the channel.
It was fascinating to watch. The outer sentries never wavered, even though nothing was coming from either direction. The troops in the hole realized struggles only made it worse, and remained still, though suit motion suggested they were still breathing at an accelerated rate.
Shortly, a repair bot of some kind trundled in on silicone tracks. Its operator followed along, and brought it right to the perfect edge of the hole.
He fastened it down with anchors, and it deployed arms that extended out holding tools for the men below to use. The machine then put out a boom that ran across the gap, so they could use it for leverage.
Another small device ran out along that beam and lowered itself down.
The robot wasn’t sufficient. It lacked both traction and reach. Shortly, four more troops came in, with a toolbox and portable power pack.
To no one in particular Andre said, “This should be interesting. Patience.”
The Uey techs brought in some spare oxy bottles. They spent long minutes trying to figure out how to change bottles in the hole, then gave up. Crawford watched in fascination as one built a manifold from spare fittings, then ran hoses to each suit via the Onboard Supply Valve.
Well, good. They’d be able to breathe as long as someone kept bringing them bottles. The workers above had a terminal from the conduit they could use for recharging themselves and the bottles for the victims.
They worked furiously, taking a sample, pulling, twisting, spraying solvent, using a radiant heater, waiting for an analysis of the sample, yanking with sheer brute force. It was all to no avail.
The one with his hand stuck came up suddenly, his right forearm and hand bare. They must have cut the fabric to free him. As his skin got puffy and blotchy, one of the rescuers rolled a taut mesh glove up his arm, then taped it in place with a contact tape. That should let him evacuate, at least.
Godin almost giggled as he swiped a switch and a pack hidden in the roof bracing popped open.
SPLASH. A loogie dropped from a hidden tube. More cement spattered across the freed guy and three others. It didn’t accomplish much immediately, but then two made the mistake of touching each other. They became instant conjoined twins. One other skipped back and tumbled. He remained supine on the deck.
The original casualty tried instinctively to wipe himself off and immobilized his arms.
“When did you do that?” Andre asked.
Godin said, “After I was done with the hole. I climbed up with some excess balloons.”
“Well done. It’s highly entertaining. I just hope we don’t come to regret it.”
Godin shrugged. “Yeah, they have to be getting pissed about now. Still, ten immobilized.”
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But at this point, the Ueys had an entire element moving in and out of the Outer Bay, power conduits, O2 lines, etc. They were also getting lots of imagery of the second hatch.
The ground rocked, the walls boomed, dust erupted from every surface, and gear tumbled.
“Blasting charge,” he said.
“Cutting charge,” Malakhar corrected. “They were able to get a cutting charge in place. Vacuum made it safe. It’s not as if an airlock is a vault.”
“Right.”
The video playback showed very little effect on the Ueys, and that was good discipline, he had to admit. Or else they hadn’t been told to expect it. No, they had twitched, but not much. They just kept working, and only tensed momentarily. In the high vacuum, all they’d suffered was a little debris and dust. Inside, though . . .
Yes, Lock 2 was dismounted enough it wasn’t going to close or seal. There was a huge distortion along the frame. It had already been open, too. This was just sabotage to ensure access.
Two locks down, four to go, because Lock 3 was a double. The Ueys thought there were only three, so any surprises would have to wait. After that, the inner defense would take over, and that could get ugly. It involved the weapons acquired so far, more goo, overpressure and melee weapons. That meant there’d be actual casualties.
For now, though, they were in the Outer and Middle Bays of the port.
The inner locks were smaller and easier to crack, though. Especially the emergency lock.
“We knew they couldn’t be kept out forever,” Rojas said. “They’ve been minimal so far. A larger charge could have done additional damage to the structure, or they could have just bombed us.”
Godin nodded. “Yeah, but they’re trying to minimize collateral casualties. Once they reach us, don’t expect them to show any kind of restraint if we resist.”
“We’re not speculating because we don’t know,” Crawford said with some force.
“Sorry.” Godin looked embarrassed.
As a reminder, he said, “Speculate on known factors. They’ve been very restrained, so have we. We hope that continues.”
Morton said, “They are pissed, though.”
He had to smile again. “Yeah, but they’ve freed two, plus the three who got stuck up top. Another element of eight came in. They’re in the Middle Bay, trying to drill Lock Three-A, and the rockwall next to it.” He pointed at the imagery they had, as the Middle Bay’s cameras went dead.
Godin agreed, “I see.”
“I’m glad for that double personnel lock, though. I guess they were right that the personnel section should have double sealing from the work section. Has it ever been used?”
Godin said, “I remember testing it, but we always leave B open, don’t we?”
“Yup,” Andre said. “Until now.”
He switched to the backup, a tiny little self-contained device that had a fisheye lens and low resolution. It sent an image every sixty seconds, scrambled. It was low enough power the Ueys might not notice it.
Godin continued, “I’m guessing once they punch through, they’ll either try to equalize the pressure, or shove a charge through from the inside.”
Studying the image, Andre said, “I think you’re correct. They have what could be a charge sealed into one, and are pumping pressure into the other. Specifically, they’re pumping oxygen in. Want to bet that’ll be followed with something reactive?”
Malakhar said, “It’ll stratify.”
Crawford said, “Twin charge. The first agitates, the second ignites. Thermobaric charge and massive overpressure.”
Malakhar squinted and nodded. “Plausible. I can’t say how effective it will be without seeing more of their equipment.”
“We’ll just have to monitor.”
Rojas asked, “How are they doing on unsticking those guys?”
Godin pointed at his screen and said, “They hauled out the one they had, managed to slice between the other two by UV cutting the bond. They’re slowly getting another loose.”
And damn did the man look uncomfortable as they peeled the adhesive. He was bent forward in a very awkward position, almost but not quite leaning against a support someone else had stretched into place for him. As Crawford watched he reached it, and his relaxation was visibly obvious.
He said, “The longer they’re tied up here, though, the shorter they are on oxy, and the longer they’re not actually inside.”
He was repeating that, but it was to reassure himself they might pull this off. It was all a waiting game.
Rojas asked, “Do you think there’s going to be some sort of deal?”
He shrugged. “Dunno. We’ll delay them until we’re told otherwise.”
“Yah.”
Godin asked, “Can we get a another emergency lock in place?”
He shook his head. “Not in time, and not in a relevant location.”
“Can we barricade?”
He’d already thought about that. “We can drive some equipment in, but it won’t stop them wiggling through.”
“No, but it does stop them bringing heavier stuff through, and means they have to acquire oxygen from us, or run yet another supply route.”
“True. Well, I guess I can spare the two of you for five minutes.”
“Got it.”
“Stack a couple of the rolly loaders about a meter from Lock Four. They’ll be able to crack the seal, but not open it.”
“Okay. Laura, let’s move.”
The two jogged away.
While that happened, he was going to try to distract Arris some more.
He keyed the radio mic. “Colonel, I see you making progress.”
“Indeed we are, Mr. Crawford. Once we disable the fourth lock it’s all over.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, sir. The entire base is compartmentalized. We know where you are, after all.”
Arris almost sighed. “Andre, the rule during the Middle Ages was that once the bastion walls of a castle were breached, the defenders surrendered. Any additional resistance only prolonged the inevitable and needlessly increased casualties.”
He was actually aware of that. “Well, since this isn’t the Middle Ages, and as far as I know, no one has taken casualties yet, I think we can change the tradition.”
“Possibly. Your resistance shows ill intent for the device.”
“How do you figure? By not turning whatever it might be over to a hostile force, we’re the bad guys?”
Arris replied, “You are, in effect, hiding stolen property from the police.”
“Sorry, what stolen property? I’m assuming this thing you’re talking about is alien in nature. Or are you claiming this is something you created, transported here and carelessly lost hold of, and now you want it back? And how do you figure you’re the cops? You’re an invading army.” He didn’t want to risk further discussion of the artifact, so he switched to, “By the way, I see you finally figured out which mix we used for the glue.”
And that meant no one in his section had leaked any intel to them. It wasn’t that proprietary. The manufacturers listed solvents in the documentation. The mix was slightly esoteric, but a quick doc search would have found it. Presumably they had to ask Earth, with circumlocutions to avoid blurting out info for anyone with a radio receiver in the scatter path of the tight beam.
Arris said, “It wasn’t that hard.”
“No, but it took you a while. We’re monitoring how much oxy you’re using, and comparing that to the capacity of your . . . transport.” He actually wasn’t sure how many ships they’d brought. But he could estimate the mass of equipment so far. They really were serious.
He also needed to avoid trying to be clever. That’s how slips happened.
Arris said, almost casually, “There are always more ships.”
That was a really, really good opening. He pinged a warning, entered a code, and another fougasse detonated. This one was obliquely aimed toward the Lock 1 entrance, and blew a hurricane of dust and gravel a
gainst the troops working there. Several were buried in the settling pile. On the monitors, a huge stream arced, bounced, rattled and settled quickly in the Outer Bay, with some reaching as far as Lock 2. At that angle it didn’t enter, but the floor and the hole were a mess.
“True,” he said. “And as we’ve learned here the hard way, there’s always more dust.”
Every troop there had to have a static-charged sheen of dust, obscuring their vision, and refreshing itself with each footstep. It all added up. Eventually they’d quit.
He hoped.
The exposed cement was neutralized now, crusted over with debris. All the Ueys had dust adhering to their mask lenses, and certainly some was clogging joints and connectors. Those would have to be cleaned before further oxy transfer.
The oxy lines run from outside were still intact, but the manifold end they’d been using to supply their crew inside was now buried. An element was frantically digging dirt away around that, using a couple of shovels, some available pieces of board, and gloved hands.
That also showed a lack of forethought. Loonie vehicles, like vehicles for Earth wilderness, all carried shovels, picks and winches. They didn’t bother with axes here. They had long prybars instead.
Godin and Rojas arrived back, panting.
Rod said, “We put two rollys right in front of it, wheels touching. They’ll have to crawl under. So we ran a pipe section under there. It’s going to mean they have to weave through one at a time. If need be, we can crack them or sack them or shoot them as they do, with good odds.”
“Excellent. But I really hope we don’t have to, because I assume these guys do know how to fight, and that means people die.”
“We also set a sensor pack. It’s on your feed.”
He gave a thumbs-up, held up a hand, turned back and keyed the mic to outside.
“So I’ll offer a deal,” he said. “You stop drilling through the current lock, I’ll pressurize the outer one so your troops can breathe. There are patches to seal the hole you made. I’ll leave a vac gap between us.”
Arris replied, “Do you really think I’m going to surrender?”
Battle Luna Page 12
