“They aren’t intelligent,” Mitchell said.
“Not that we know of,” Fitzroy replied. “Just because we’ve never contacted intelligent life elsewhere in the universe doesn’t mean we never will. Back on…”
“Mind your station, Lieutenant,” Ikande said.
“Shuttle is away,” Mitchell reported, a light flashing on his display, a trajectory plot showing the vehicle’s descent path to the surface. “They’re in a hurry. Romanova’s red-lining the engines.”
“Good,” Fitzroy said. “The sooner this is over with, the better.”
Tapping a control, Ikande said, “Bridge to Auxiliary Control. Report.”
After a brief pause, Hoffman reported, “All systems are nominal down here, sir. We’re ready to take over if you give the word. Are you seeing anything up there we aren’t?”
“No, but there’s a little voice in the back of my head warning me that all of this is a little too easy, Lieutenant. Keep watching out and be ready if you are needed.”
“Maybe we should go to battle stations, sir,” Mitchell said.
Fitzroy glared at him, and replied, “There’s no need. We’re at alert status. We can be at full combat readiness in a couple of minutes if we must. Push the crew too soon, and they’ll lose their edge if we end up in a firefight. Besides, there’s nothing out there.”
“We haven’t got any sensor readings from the far side of the planet yet, in our blind spot, and until we do, I think we need to take more precautions.” Endurance slid smoothly into orbit, the shuttle curving away. A light flashed on his display, and he said, “Sabotage!”
“Where?”
“The probes! Someone put in a program designed to deactivate them once they left direct line-of-sight of Endurance. That’s why they failed.” His hands furiously worked the controls, stabbing at the panel, and he continued, “Restoring backup programming now, but it’s going to be a couple of minutes before I’ve got the network back on-line.” Glancing at another panel, he added, “We’ve lost contact with the shuttle, sir. The relay’s out. We can’t recall them.”
“Battle stations,” Ikande said. “Lieutenant Fitzroy, I want a salvo of missiles ready for immediate launch. Make them Mark Six for the moment. We’ll save the big guns until we know what we’re facing. Helm, increase speed. I want to go into the highest possible orbit. Mitchell, prepare a fast probe, targeted on the landing site of the shuttle. I want them informed of our current situation and ordered to pull out if they can manage a rendezvous with Endurance.”
“Aye, sir,” Mitchell said. “Probe away, programming implemented.” He looked across at another readout, cursing under his breath, and said, “Heat flare, coming around the side of the planet. Looks like a fast Coalition shuttle.”
“How the hell did they get here so quickly?” Fitzroy asked.
“We were betrayed,” Ikande said. “They knew where we were going, and they must have found that installation on the surface. We’ve sent the landing party into a trap.”
“Sir, if we go into a lower, tighter orbit, we might be able to intercept them when we come around the far side,” Petrov said. “I can take us down to twenty kilometers, maybe fifteen…”
“Negative, Spaceman,” Ikande replied. “It’s a good idea, but unless we can get a clearer idea of what we’re facing, we’ve got to think of the safety of the ship first. Lieutenant Mitchell, prepare for your escape orbit.”
“You said yourself this mission was critical, sir,” Fitzroy protested.
“We will do everything possible to complete this mission, Lieutenant, but I have no intention of committing suicide. Bianchi, I need more information, now.”
“Heat signature, coming around the far side, following the shuttle,” the technician replied, her hands darting across her console. The image on the viewscreen raced forward, a tiny dot of light slowly resolving into a slender, narrow shape as the magnification resolved. The Coalition had taken a different tack at warship design, not bothering with luxuries such as artificial gravity for their crew.
“Lancer, Coalition Lancer,” Fitzroy said. “On an intercept course. Firing range in a hundred and forty seconds.” He looked across at another panel, adding, “Their shuttle has gone weapons hot, making right for ours. Lieutenant Romanova has commenced evasive action.”
“Bianchi, hail that ship,” Ikande said. “Maybe we can end this peacefully.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that, sir,” Mitchell replied.
“Maybe not, but we at least have to make the attempt, Lieutenant.”
The screen flicked on, showing an image of a stout man sitting at the heart of a control room, one that looked surprisingly like that of Endurance, as though the designer had drawn inspiration from the older design. He wore the usual Coalition brown jumpsuit, only the three stripes on his shoulder proclaiming his rank.
“You have violated our territory, Endurance,” the man said. “I insist that you power down your engines and surrender to my ship. I will guarantee safe passage for you and your crew back to Mars, following interrogation and processing.”
“Colonel, you know that I can’t agree to that,” Ikande replied. “I am willing to negotiate for a peaceful withdrawal, on the condition that our shuttle…”
“Perhaps you do not understand,” the man interrupted. “This is not a negotiation. You will surrender, or you will die. Make your choice. Out.”
“Nice guy,” Petrov said, shaking his head.
“Enemy warship is increasing speed,” Bianchi reported. “He’s gone weapons hot.”
Mitchell looked at Ikande, and said, “I think we can evade if we implement escape course now, sir, but it’ll mean leaving the shuttle behind.”
“Orders, sir?” Fitzroy asked.
“Helm, hard about. Take us in closer to the enemy and attempt to match speed and course. Kill our rotation. We’re going to need to maneuver.” A smile curled Ikande’s lips, and he added, “Lieutenant Fitzroy, get me a firing solution.”
Chapter 12
“They’re right on our tail,” Romanova said, throwing the shuttle from side to side in an attempt to dodge the anticipated attack. “Coming in hot. This shuttle isn’t built for combat operations, damn it!”
Looking at the sensors, Thiou replied, “If I’m reading this right, we’ve got contacts on the surface as well. Heat signatures. They must have dug themselves in, nice and deep.” Turning to her, she said, “They were waiting for us. The whole time…”
“Engines are red-lining!” Thakur yelled, calling back from the flight engineering station. “You can’t push her much longer, Lieutenant, or the whole system will crash! We’re looking at about a minute from a total system failure!”
“Altitude?” Romanova asked.
“Three thousand. We’re about ten miles from our target.”
“Perfect. We can get out and walk.”
“What?”
“Everyone get your helmets on, and grab a spare tank of fuel for your suit thrusters. Get to the airlock. I’ll set up the maneuver.”
Grabbing her arm, Thiou asked, “Just what the hell do you intend to do?”
“Slow us down, blow the hatch, and we make our way to the surface using the thruster packs. If I get this right, you’ll have enough delta-v for the descent. Then go into hiding and head for the objective. We still have a mission to complete, and when Endurance comes after us, that’s the first place they’ll check.” Looking around, she asked, “Everyone get that?”
“Got it, Lieutenant,” Thakur said, passing around the tanks. “Need a hand, Doctor?”
Clipping her tank into position, Thiou rose to her feet, and replied, “I think I’ve got it, thanks.” Turning back to Romanova, she asked, “What about you?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan. Just move it. We’re going to have about ten seconds to make this work. Beginning deceleration now.” She threw the shuttle around, throwing the engine even hotter, ignoring the cascade of red lights running down the systems moni
tors. Thakur pushed Thiou to the head of the line, and she held her hands close by her side, knowing what was coming next.
“Now!” Romanova yelled, firing the explosive bolts that ripped the inner and outer hatches of the airlock open, the force of escaping atmosphere pulling Thiou and the two security guards clear, debris fluttering all around them, improvised chaff to throw off any potential attack. Alarms rang through her helmet as her thrusters fired, slowing her down, her suit computer doing its best to bring her down to a safe landing. Her heads-up display flickered into life, showing her planned touchdown spot, the floor of a nearby crater.
For the first few seconds, her suit sensors tracked the other escaping crewmen, but the velocity differential was too great, and they quickly fell out of range. A brief flare filled the sky, and she looked up to catch the final seconds of the shuttle’s life, an explosion tearing it into pieces. That meant that the signal booster was gone, cutting her completely off from the outside world.
The surface was reaching up to her, jagged rocks towering into the sky. The reserve tank quickly drained into her main fuel supply, and she tossed the empty canister away, trying to reduce her mass as much as she could. Her thrusters were still firing, working to kill her velocity, bringing her to what might be a safe landing speed. The ground was getting close, though, and fuel warning lights flashed on, one after another. The gravity of this world was low, lower than Luna, but that wouldn’t save her from a catastrophic crash.
Her knees buckled under the force of the impact, and she rolled to the side, dust flying into the air all around her. An amber light winked on, a warning of potential damage to her suit, and she quickly looked herself over, panting for breath on the surface. Somehow, she’d made it down, and though her on-board computer didn’t seem quite willing to believe it, she’d landed in one piece.
The Coalition shuttle would have tracked her all the way down. If the enemy did have people on the ground, which appeared more likely with every moment, they’d already be heading in her direction. She’d heard enough about what happened in Coalition prison camps to want to avoid them at almost any cost. Without a weapon, all she could do was run. Reaching for the controls on her arm, she checked her life support, turning up the oxygen, instantly feeling the energy boost through her system. She’d pay for that later, but for the present, she needed all the help she could get.
As far as she could work out, they’d come down eight miles from the dome. That had to be their target. The only landmark on the planet, as far as they could tell. The terrain was terrible, torn rocks and wide craters, but that would work to her advantage. There were plenty of places to hide. She picked out a path with her eyes, then took an experimental bound, pushing across the terrain. A little of her thruster fuel remained, though not enough to carry her more rapidly. Perhaps enough for a quick boost over a ravine. Normally, any EVA was carefully choreographed, every detail prepared in advance, even for a simple stroll. This time, she didn’t even have any maps that she could trust, just a few hasty observations from orbit.
She bounded across the terrain, long steps in the low gravity, trying to keep as low as she could. Ultimately, she couldn’t remain on the surface, not for long. Her heat signature would stand out easily on the surface, tracking her a simple matter from a vehicle flying overhead. She looked around, expecting to see enemy soldiers chasing towards her. She didn’t even have a sidearm. Not that she could have used it if she had. Her eyes swept the horizon, seeking out any enemies.
There was something. Coming toward her. A dark shape, drifting over the craters, brief puffs of gas from his thrusters to speed him on course. Endurance had carried no combat spacesuits, an omission that was costing them dearly. Coalition suits could reduce their sensor profile, get closer to an enemy before being detected. Her scanners only belatedly picked up the target, a warning alert ringing through her ears as she looked for an escape route.
Nothing. Just the endless, empty terrain. She raised her hands as the Coalition soldier levelled his rifle at her, knowing that there was no way for her to evade, nothing she could do. She settled back on the surface, watching the man approach, waiting for him to get close. At the last second, she fired the remaining fuel from her thrusters, sending them both tumbling away.
She had one chance, sprinting into the distance, weaving from side to side as he had in the alley. Fountains of dust erupted on either side of her, fragments of rock flying through the air, until one of them slammed into the ground in front of her, blocking her escape. She turned to see the figure, rifle in hand, gesturing for her to raise her hands. Taking a deep breath, she turned, just in time to see the soldier dive to the side, air spilling from a gash in his suit. She caught a quick flash, his helmet exploded, and looked to the left to see Romanova drifting towards her, rifle in hand.
“Can you read me now?” Romanova asked. “Doctor Thiou, can…”
“I read you. Great timing, and a great shot.”
“A terrible shot. It took two bullets to bring him down. Next time I will do better. I can’t pick up the beacon signal from the others, but I think they’re running around out here somewhere. You were my priority.” Glancing at a crater to her right, she added, “I found some caves, or at least the entrance to them, over that way. We’ve got to get off the surface.”
“I’m with you,” Thiou replied, moving to follow her.
“Nice move with the thrusters, by the way,” Romanova said. “You set him up nicely for him.”
“Assuming it is a him.”
“The Coalition is far from enlightened,” she replied, a faint smile on her face. “Trust me, it was a ‘him’. Most of the stories you’ve heard about Triton are true enough. We’re not saints, far from it, but there are far worse places to live than Mars.”
“Here, for example,” Thiou replied. She heard a faint echo in her helmet, then asked, “Did you hear that?”
“What?”
“Something in the distance, some sort of voice.”
Looking around, Romanova said, “I don’t see or hear anything.”
The murmur returned, and Thiou replied, “There it goes again.”
“Directional finder. It’s got to be a tightbeam.”
“On it,” she replied, pulling an antenna from her belt, waving around the horizon. “There, two o’clock, right by those caves. A beacon signal of some kind, and it sounds as though its repeating.” Holding up her right wrist, she punched commands into the control keyboard, and said, “Not enough bandwidth for the suit computer to interpret it.”
“Distance?”
“It can’t be far. Signal strength is damn near nothing.” She paused, then added, “And to answer your next question, it isn’t a Coalition trap, either. Or they’d have made it more obvious.”
“Nevertheless, you take the lead,” Romanova said, a smile on her face. “While they’re shooting at you, I can shoot at them.”
“I thought you were supposed to be looking out for my safety?”
“I might find it hard to do that if I’m dead. Lead the way.”
Thiou shook her head, moving to the front and carefully bounding towards the target, brief snatches of signal crackling through her helmet. If it was a signal, it had to be blind luck that she’d heard it. Had they landed at the main base as planned, they’d have missed it completely. She glanced at the horizon, a frown spreading across her face. The Coalition must have occupied the base by now. They knew everything that they needed, the location of Challenger. And had almost certainly destroyed the evidence inside, or shipped it back to Sol.
This was their last lead. The last chance to save the mission.
Overhead, the shuttle flew, down to the south, another high pass. It had been only a few minutes since they’d made their landing. It seemed like hours had passed. Finally, she saw something in the distance, a gleaming patch of ground, and redoubled her pace, moving into the gap between two craters that formed a tall ravine, rocks all around.
“I’m not sure,
” Romanova said. “This would be a great place to get trapped.”
“We’re trapped on the surface until Endurance can send someone down for us anyway.”
“Fair point,” she said, with a shrug. At the end of the ravine was a patch of blue, strange in the light, with a patch of debris close by, still a dull red, part of the wrecked remains of their shuttle. And behind it, a small dome, barely big enough for two people. There were footprints scattered all around, and an old-style helmet resting on the ground, the soil obviously dug over at some point in the past.
Thiou looked at Romanova, and peered at the helmet, reading, “Johnson, Lieutenant T. Spacers use helmets as grave markers, when the body is irretrievable. I guess we’d find the poor guy down there now, probably surprisingly intact.”
“We’re not going to…”
“No. No need. Keep watch. I’ll look inside. The seal looks like it still works, but the air will be foul.”
Romanova walked towards an antenna, pulling it out of the ground and laying it on the floor, saying, “We don’t want anyone else finding this place. I’ll set up a defensive position. Don’t be too long.”
Nodding, Thiou slid through the cramped airlock, her suit systems quickly registering the atmosphere inside. No oxygen, lots of carbon dioxide, nitrogen. She’d be dead in a minute if she dared take a breath. It was a miracle the dome had held for so long. Stepping inside, her eyes widened as she saw a skeleton on the floor, sprawled on a bunk, wearing the tattered remains of a uniform.
“I’ve found the other one. He didn’t get a funeral.”
“Any idea who?”
She looked around the room, marveling at the antiquated equipment. A computer terminal, life support systems, emergency ration packs that they’d evidently never had a chance to eat, a mining laser. All of it long, long non-functional. They might be able to do something with the computer with the equipment back on Endurance, though it seemed doubtful that they could scavenge sufficient data. Then she spotted something in the man’s hand, a piece of paper clutched in his fist. Gently, carefully, she prized it free, unfurling the dry material, careful to avoid cracks.
Exiles of Earth: Rebellion Page 10
