by C. Gockel
Melching stirred in her seat. "Let’s hope they don’t board us."
"Don’t worry, we’ll make sure they don’t grab Admiral Saahren," Roland said. "Be ready to engage the emergency program, Editor."
She turned around to look at Saahren, standing in the doorway cold as ice. Nothing seemed to phase him.
At last the voice returned. "Queen of Tyrone, you are clear to dock."
Tyne squeezed her shoulder. "As easy as that."
She sagged in relief, blowing out a breath of air. The adrenalin was starting to pump. "I know how their sensors work. It wasn’t easy but I’ve done harder things." Not many, but they didn’t need to know that. Necessity had driven her. She had to get to Shernish, had to divert Sean, destroy the virus.
"I’ve received docking permission at the space station," Melching announced. "Stay seated while we ease in."
The space station loomed, a broad cylinder with spokes radiating out around the circumference in six staggered circles. Some of the spokes were already occupied, with ships snuggled up against them. Allysha noticed that many of the spokes were empty; probably because of the political situation. Queen of Tyrone edged closer.
"We have you, Queen of Tyrone. Release controls and prepare to dock."
Melching sat back as the ship’s IS followed the station controller’s instructions. The station’s grav beam locked on to bring the ship in to its docking station. Queen of Tyrone barely rocked as she was brought alongside. A muffled clunk that echoed through the compartment signaled that the bridge had attached to the outside hull.
Docking completed, Melching’s first job was to advise the station controllers that the lander was to be deployed. Allysha sat in the engineer’s chair next to Melching as she spoke to a human traffic controller.
The official frowned, her voice dripping disapproval. "It’s extremely irregular. We’re not encouraging sight-seers and we certainly can’t have landers charging off all over the planet. The situation on the ground is precarious enough."
"I realize that," Melching said. "But this is a computer expert brought in because of a serious problem at the University at Shernish."
"I’d have to see authorization."
"No problem." Melching turned to Allysha.
She sent the woman her letter of authorization and prayed they wouldn’t check.
The official’s pursed lips twitched as if the document smelled bad. Allysha ran a hand back through her hair. What if they’d changed the letterhead or something while she’d been away? What if they checked with the University?
"Allysha Marten is a Qerran citizen?"
She answered that herself, moving so the woman could see her. "That’s right."
The woman glared at her and checked her database. Her lips tightened and her eyes flicked between Allysha and the record in front of her. "It looks in order. But you’re on your own. You realize that? It’s out of our hands, nothing to do with this space station."
Allysha suppressed a sigh of relief.
"Understood, control," Melching said. "Thanks for your cooperation."
Allysha shared a relieved look with Melching, blew out a breath and went back to the main cabin where the others waited. Home. A few more hours and she’d be home. Her spirits soared.
"Are you ready, Allysha?" Saahren said.
She nodded and patted the machine in front of her. The tracker was about twice the size of her techpack but it fitted comfortably in a pocket of her coat. She’d tweaked the system to find somebody using her customized personal shield. If Sean was in Shernish, the device would find him.
"Well then, let’s move," Saahren said.
31
Allysha’s heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The others were already moving toward the hangar bay. Roland and Saahren would accompany Allysha, and Tyne would pilot the lander and stay with it while the others did their job.
Tyne dropped the ship out of Queen of Tyrone’s hangar and started the descent, skimming around the orbit for the right place to insert into the atmosphere. Clouds obscured the view, a soft white blanket at a low altitude.
Home. She wished it could have been under happier circumstances. It would be late afternoon in Shernish, a good time for kaff at one of the kaffbars along Lobok Avenue, even if it was raining. She chided herself for flippancy as the words in Fyysor’s diary echoed in her mind. No one has contracted the disease and lived. I hope that we have done enough to ensure that this dreadful illness does not spread to Chollarc or the Khophirate. And now that scourge could be unleashed on the Ptorix again. Her skin crawled at the thought. Where was Sean? Where was he going? Could they stop him in time?
The lander rocked and bounced as it penetrated the clouds and descended into rain. The ship’s IS, Chas, turned on the shields but visibility was minimal. Not that it mattered to Chas.
Roland looked askance at the wall of water pounding the shields. "Doesn’t look much like the image we worked with earlier."
"Well, it’s winter," Allysha said in defense of her city. "It rains in winter here." She glanced at the climate sensors. No joy there; the clouds were part of a system rolling in from the sea.
"It’s going to be uncomfortable," Roland said.
"At least not too many people will notice the ship landing," she said.
The lander rocked a little as the force of the wind defied the stabilizers working to keep the ship in balance. They were approaching from the ocean. The rain fell in sheets but the machine’s IS filtered it from the view. Foam-streaked waves surged beneath them, long rollers trailing wind-blown crests.
"How big are those waves, Chas?" Allysha said.
"Six meters from trough to crest."
Six meters; she could vaguely remember just such a storm. The waves tore down one of the limestone stacks that stood offshore along the cliffs that loomed ahead. Waves reared up them, like alien beasts clawing up the heights; up, suck back, try again, a little higher. The water surged at the base, swirled around the boulders. The lander crossed the cliff line and slowed. Now more susceptible to the power of the gale, it rocked back and forth as the IS balanced the ship for landing.
"Twenty seconds to landing." Chas spoke calmly, totally unaffected by the forces of nature running riot around the ship.
The display showed a view of the ground where the ramp would extend. White rivulets ran down toward the cliffs, snaking their way through the wind-flattened grass. Rain battered the shields.
"Take us to the gates, Tyne." Saahren pointed to the ones he meant, at the top of Port Road, on the display.
Allysha jerked her head around to stare at him. What did he think he was doing?
Saahren met her eyes. "We’ll have trouble getting out the door in this. Tyne can set us down and then come back here to wait."
"I guess so." Allysha would have liked to walk through the town—but not in this. The best targets for the virus would be around the university, anyway. Apart from the university itself, most of the bars and restaurants were either in Lobok Avenue or down around the port. True, the markets were near the port as well, but hardly anyone would be there in this weather.
Chas took the lander up. The engines growled, fighting to keep the vehicle steady as it rose and then their noise abated as the ship went with the wind. Out there, visibility couldn’t have been more than ten meters. The city emerged, low Ptorix houses lining the streets that led to the summit where the university sat like a brooding beast on a nest. Water poured down walls and cascaded in torrents down the roads to the sea.
"At least there’s nobody around," Roland said.
Tyne asked Chas to bring the lander down as close to the wall as possible. Shuddering, it sank into the dubious shelter of the surrounding shops and houses and settled on the road five meters from the gate. They descended into the gale.
Sheets of rain battered the deserted streets, whipped at their faces, trickled into clothes. A torn awning snapped and swung. A wind-driven box clattered and banged
its way down Lobok Avenue, audible even above the thunder of the storm.
Saahren led the way, followed by Allysha, then Roland. They sprinted for the gate, fighting the wind. A Ptorix stood in the entrance to the gatehouse, his conical body swathed in a cape beaded with water droplets. His eyes glowed blue and he held a weapon in one hand.
Allysha pushed forward. "No need for alarm," she said in Ptorix, holding out the envelope containing the letter of authorization.
He jerked when she spoke to him, then moved back into the gatehouse, beckoning. "I know you."
She followed him into the room, Roland and Saahren in her wake. The Ptorix retreated behind a counter, weapon in one hand, the envelope in another, while the tentacles from a third hand deftly extracted the document.
"This looks in order," the Ptorix said, peering at the side of the letter written in Ptorix. "My name’s Vanraas. I’ve seen you here lots of times. Not a great day to be out."
Allysha grinned, forcing herself to be patient. "Pleased to meet you, Vanraas. And yes, you’re right about that. Isn’t it always the way, though? If something goes wrong, it’s always in the worst weather."
"Very true," Vanraas agreed. "Well, you know where to go, I expect."
"That’s right. And the sooner it’s done, the sooner we can go home."
Vanraas hesitated. "Those humans… they look a bit like soldiers. At least, the tall one does." He sounded doubtful.
Allysha leaned toward him as though confiding in him. "I think they used to be. They work for Medway Development Corporation—the people I’m working for. These two are here to make sure I get back okay, you know what I mean?"
Vanraas’s eating mouth jerked in assent. "It hasn’t been nice." He pressed a button under the counter. "Use the door in the gate. I’ve unlocked it for you."
She thanked him and pulled out the tracker. The signal was strong. Sean was in the university.
32
Allysha opened the door a crack. A blast of air whistled in with a sharp spatter of raindrops. She slipped out, Roland and Saahren right behind her. They made the short sprint to the doorway in the gate, and climbed gratefully into the university grounds. They stopped, huddled together against the wall.
"Everything okay?" Saahren said.
Allysha pushed wet hair off her face and nodded. "He recognized me. It helps."
Saahren pointed at the tracker. "Have you found our target?"
Allysha nodded. "He’s going to the control room in the university. See here?" she showed him on the display. "It’s under the fortress where they control all the service systems—plumbing, sewage, lighting, power—everything."
Everything.
She groaned. "Oh, no. No."
"What?"
"The university has a climate conditioning system, in the student refectory. You can get into the water pipes from the control room. The maintenance people regularly introduce disinfectant to control bugs."
She didn’t say the rest—Saahren would have made the jump. How horribly ironic that a device to kill bugs would be used to introduce bugs that kill. The pictures she’d seen in the laboratory on Tisyphor flooded into her mind; the sounds, the fear, the rotting, blackened tentacles. Imagine that taking hold, spreading through the town. Sean couldn’t know what was in the canister. He couldn’t do something so dreadful. She had to stop him. The fool, the insufferable, idiotic fool was being used, she was sure.
Saahren interrupted her thoughts, hunched up in his coat. "We won’t achieve anything standing out here getting wet. The rain’s slackened a little. Let’s go."
The walls afforded a level of protection from the wind. Although the rain had almost stopped, a glance toward the sea was enough to show the abatement would be temporary. Ragged mist drifted among the buildings and water dripped off eaves and the branches of trees. A number of people of both species took advantage of the lull in the weather to make a dash from one building to another. The three humans were ignored.
Allysha led them along the path up to the front entrance beneath supporting pillars formed and decorated to resemble stylized trees. They splashed through puddles and brushed past wet bushes amid the different sounds of water dripping, splashing, running. A human hurried past them with a muttered "sorry" as he brushed Roland’s shoulder. The water had penetrated her clothing. Her neck and ears felt cold but at least she wasn’t soaked to the skin.
Unusually, the front entrance was closed. She pressed the prominent panel in the center of the elaborately carved wood and it slid back silently, enough to let two people abreast through.
"Very nice. One of the best I’ve seen." The journalist gazed up at the vaulted ceiling and the carved limestone walls, all curves and flows and intricate patterns, designed to look like an elaborate cave. Lights glowed from features resembling stalactites but shaped into animals and plants.
"I guess so." It was most certainly a magnificent building. She didn’t even see these places any more, she’d been there so often.
"Hiya, Cheshnor," she said to the elderly Ptorix door warden standing at his station just inside the door. Go through the motions, look normal, look as though you belong.
Cheshnor bowed in greeting, tentacles aquiver. "It has been some time, young Allysha. Have you been well in these troubling times?"
If only he knew. "Well enough. I need to go down to the control room. Here’s the authority." She handed over the authorization sheet, willing him to hurry.
"Of course, of course."
Cheshnor glanced at the document and entered the number in the register. Just as well there was no automatic cross-reference.
"These humans, they are with you?"
"Um. Yes. As you say, troubling times. They’re here to look after me." She moved her arms, indicating embarrassment.
Cheshnor’s eyes whirled green for a moment, then settled back to reddish orange. His fingers moved like water grass within the red and gold sleeves of his tunic. "Sad that it has come to this, at Shernish University, of all places. All this violence. It was never like this when I was young." He rumbled, equivalent to a human sigh.
"As you say, Cheshnor." If she didn’t get away, she would be treated to a dissertation on how much the place had changed. Another time she’d be interested. "Well, I’d better be getting on. Be seeing you." She gave the Ptorix a cheerful wave using all fingers on both hands.
"What is our status?" Saahren asked as they walked across the frescoed floor to the lift.
She checked the tracker for Sean. "No doubt about it. He’s headed for the control room."
Allysha stood aside for a group of Ptorix students coming out of the lift. Their eyes gleaming violet, they pushed between her and the two men. She waited until the students had passed, then took a step toward the lift. Somebody jostled her from behind. She stumbled, tried to regain her feet and staggered. Her feet slipped beneath her and she fell onto her elbows. The tracker bounced on the tiles. Roland bounded forward, shouldering a student out of the way to retrieve the unit. One of the other students snatched the device in writhing blue fingers, his eyes purple with fury. "Chorhuz."
"Hey, give that back," Roland snapped, arm reaching out.
The student with the tracker smashed the device deliberately, hard against a wall decoration, and dropped it. With a gurgle of derisive laughter, he made off after his colleagues.
"Stupid toe rag bastard." Roland made to follow but Saahren held him back.
"Bad luck, Roland, we can’t afford to make a scene."
Ignoring her painful elbows, Allysha scrambled to her feet and retrieved the tracker from where it lay in a litter of limestone fragments. The shattered stone where the carving had broken off glowed white and new. Damnation. She turned the device over. The young Ptorix had smashed the tracker with enough force to dent the surface. Idiot. If he only realized he’d just jeopardized his own safety and that of his colleagues. She swallowed her anger as best she could. It wouldn’t help.
She entered the car, the other two
behind her, pressed for level B-2 and checked the tracker.
"Does it still work?" Saahren asked, peering over her shoulder.
She shook her head. "I wouldn’t trust it. See? It’s saying Sean’s in the history department. That’s not possible. It’s on the second floor. That’s up." She put the tracker back in her pocket. "We’ll just have to play it by ear."
Roland’s eyes darted around the inside of the car, taking in the abstract curves and colors. "This art is better than anything I’ve seen on any of the edge worlds."
Allysha nodded. "Yes, the University is famous for its architecture. Harks back to the glory days of the Khophirate, before it started to shrink."
Saahren had looked around the car, too, but Allysha could see he was looking for sensors or dangers. Such a different way of thinking, such a contrast between the two men.
The car came to a halt and the doors slid back.
"Not much light," Roland muttered as they headed down an arched corridor.
The light sources were set into niches in the stone. It probably was pretty gloomy down here, by human standards.
"The lights are for humans. Ptorix wouldn’t even have bothered with this much. You’ll just have to get used to it," she said.
She wondered where Sean was; whether he was ahead of them or maybe coming back toward them.
Sean licked his lips as he walked, shrugging his shoulders inside his coat. He might be out of the weather under here, but he sure as hell wasn’t dry. The rain had seeped into his shoes and his feet were cold. Anyway, the first phase was done. He’d handed the container over, as agreed. He still didn’t know what was in it; nothing good, he’d wager. Best not to think about it.
He fumbled for the door panel, wishing there was more light in these blasted tunnels. One press and he was out, back into the university’s splendid vaulted entrance hall. With a bit of luck, it would have stopped raining. Still, at least he only had to go as far as his hotel. He’d wait there until his contacts confirmed that Allysha had showed up in town, pick her up and carry on from there.
