“A spectrum analyzer for materials composition.” He winced when Po carelessly tossed it onto the parts box on the floor. Taz had spent five days repairing and customizing it to work better than the original version.
Otak once again alerted him to the explosives scent. Unfortunately, Rylando couldn’t give the rat the usual food reward. A thought of praise would have to do.
It didn’t take an astro-engineer to figure out that the source was Stramlo’s messenger bag. Too small to be a regular Kem-X packet, but maybe samples? No clue why he’d been keeping it in his storage unit.
Po’s hard-shell backpack, which he still wore, must have high-value items, or he’d have given it up. Pelvannor’s heavy bag had probably held valuables, too, which explained why he’d yelled at her when she’d tossed it out of the airsled.
He still couldn’t rule out the possibility that Stramlo and Po had more than just bad luck in common.
Movement caught his eye. Tzima, Jhidelle’s kinkajou, was now on top of the airsled. He was glad he’d managed to open a vent for her so she could slip inside the airsled’s cab, but now she was an added worry.
He cautiously reached out with his talent. Instead of encountering the animal’s mind, he felt the presence of another, stronger directive, directing her gaze. Jhidelle must be connected to the animal’s senses. The best he could do was ask Tzima to hide and hope the girl would take the hint. Po was the type to break or kill things to take out his frustrations.
Rylando wished he was a stronger minder, like Jhidelle apparently was. He’d developed training techniques to compensate, but they were no help now that he needed to connect with his own animals. To find out if Taz was okay. He’d been a rock-brain for not being more wary or paying attention to her instincts. If they lived through this, he planned to tell Captain Bhayrip he’d ordered her into this mess. Otherwise, they’d both get demoted for going in understaffed and getting caught in criminal games.
After two more “what’s this” queries, Po jumped out of the airsled and stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at Rylando. “We need your partner in her mech suit. Get her up here, now.”
Rylando stopped himself from rolling his eyes, but just barely. “I’m not a telepath. Neither is she. The airsled’s comms are still as dead as the lift coil. I’ll need my earwire.”
Po turned his glare on Pelvannor. “You’re the báichī who threw it away instead of keeping it. Find it!”
Even though stoic Pelvannor didn’t react to Po’s insults, Rylando felt a moment of sympathy for her. She had an even worse boss than he did, and that was saying something.
Po’s perpetually outraged attitude reminded Rylando of his favorite fantasy adventure serial, where the emperor’s evil daughter could never understand why the universe didn’t dance at her command. Supporting characters who told her as much often had tragically short lives.
After a few moments, Pelvannor came back and handed Po the earwire. He examined it, then tossed it to Rylando. “Route the audio through your percomp. Call your partner. No subvocalizing.”
Rylando adhered it to his jaw and tapped to connect, then spoke aloud. “Subcaptain, give me a sitrep, please.” He hated hearing his own amplified voice.
Taz didn’t answer. Hatya wouldn’t unless she thought he was talking to her. It wasn’t yet time for check-in.
After several long moments, he tried again. He shook his head. “I can send a ping–”
Po interrupted. “Try again!” His face flushed in anger.
Rylando kept a tight rein on his temper. “The subfloor is incalloy and denscrete. It’s probably blocking the signal.” Rylando didn’t mention the possibility that Taz couldn’t answer because she was hurt or worse. Stramlo was barely hanging on as it was. Hearing his daughter might be in trouble might push him over the edge.
Po stomped his foot. “Goddamnit!” The next thing Rylando knew, Po was aiming a stunner at his throat. “I fucking hate liars!”
Pain filled Rylando's world. He scraped off the super-heated earwire as he fell to his knees, jerking like a stranded fish. Grimly, he rode out the agony, knowing if he collapsed, he might crush Otak. Knowing the rat might not survive the stunner spillover.
Taz ran a brief scan to confirm that the Kem-X package she was looking at was the same as the last fourteen.
At least now, the thick walls and armored floor made sense. So did forcing Stramlo, who likely had explosives experience from his mining engineering job, to help destroy the node. What still didn’t make sense was why.
Galactic civilization lived and died by data. The Concordance’s net boasted multitudes of ways to keep and recover data on its five-hundred-plus member planets. Millions of deep-space comms relayed it across civilization. Even newly opened frontier planets had three or four hypercube nodes. Long-settled planets had dozens. Destroying just one made no sense.
Perhaps the act itself was the message. Revenge against the town, or against the famous politician who’d called it home, or a grievance with the galaxy.
Right now, she had more immediate problems. She fast-walked back to where she’d left Jhidelle and the animals in their crates.
No way to phrase it diplomatically. “I think the whole facility is wired with explosives.”
Jhidelle sat huddled in her coat between the crates. Her eyes rounded. “What are you going to do?”
Taz stepped out of her suit and crouched down to face the girl. This conversation was too important to have barriers between them. “That depends somewhat on you.” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder toward the rows of equipment. “In the good-news column, the timers are powered, but they aren’t counting down. The packets all look uniform and straightforward, meaning they can be disarmed. In the bad-news column, if the spacing and placement hold true, there’s enough Kem-X to launch the entire town into orbit along with the building. Also, just because the timers aren’t running now doesn’t mean someone can’t change that.”
Jhidelle’s expression darkened. “Someone like Po.” Her eyebrows lifted in realization. “That’s why he wanted my father.”
“Probably.” Taz was glad not to have to broach that subject. “Time isn’t our friend right now. Our choices aren’t good, either.” She held up her thumb. “Option A, we go back to the lift shaft and wait to be rescued. Captain Wa’ara will start searching for us there.”
Moyo suddenly stood up in her crate and started whimpering. One of the cats yowled. Shen stood, ears pivoting, nose working.
Even as Taz was about to ask, Jhidelle’s eyes jittered momentarily. “They think Subcaptain Delroinn is hurt.”
Taz shoved her feelings in a box. “How bad?”
“Give me a minute.” The girl closed her eyes. “Tzima’s vision is bad, but I think Po is holding something like it’s a hand weapon. My father is sitting on something. The Subcaptain is on his knees, bent over, hugging himself, shaking his head like he has water in his ears. Po is saying ‘another lie, and I’ll stun you again.’” She opened her eyes, her expression a mixture of concern and anger.
“Po is an asshole.” Taz spat. “Stunners hurt like fire, but they’re not lethal. It’ll disrupt Delroinn’s minder talent for a bit.” She pointed to the crates. “Could you help his team understand that he’s not hurt bad but can’t talk to them right now?”
Taz could see Jhidelle’s success when the animals began to quiet down.
Determination settled on the girl’s face. “What are our other options besides waiting for your pilot?”
“Option B is to look for another way out of here. We’re lucky this facility doesn’t extend into the other section of the building that collapsed.” Taz blew out a loud breath. “Or the riskiest of all, and against every GSAR regulation, plus your father would probably kill me if he knew what I was thinking, Option C. Locate and disarm the Kem-X packets in here, then take option A or B.”
Jhidelle’s eyebrows furrowed. “How is disarming the packets riskier than hoping we get rescued? They’d
still be there.”
“Because I’ll need Delroinn’s team to find them all. I don’t speak dog, cat, or weasel, so I’ll need your talent to ask them to help. I have explosives training and my suit has good scanners, but if some of those packets are custom, I’ll be out of my depth. If I screw up, we could get hurt. If I really screw up, there won’t be enough of any of us to even make into memory diamonds.”
Jhidelle’s head tilted with a puzzled air. “You could’ve chosen for both of us. I’m just a Kinder.”
“Yeah, but you’re a smart kid, and whatever we choose will be a lot easier if you’re on board.” Taz smiled wryly. “Besides, I’ve always hated being treated like I’m not in the room when important decisions are made about me.”
Jhidelle put her hand on the crate that held most of the animals. “Then I vote Option C. I want to help. Your team wants to help. Shen especially. She worries about you.”
Taz snorted with laughter. “That dog worries about everyone.” She rose to her feet, glad to get off the bone-chilling floor. “Let’s release the team, and I’ll tell you what I need.”
GSAR would bust her to no-ranker if they ever found out what she was about to do, or that she involved a child to help. But she was more worried about the explosives than her career. Neither Rylando or Jhidelle’s father would make it out in time if Po and Pelvannor got free and started the countdown.
Rylando counted his breaths and throttled his temper hard. He abhorred violence, except when it came to threats to his animals. Hatya had stopped him from beating to a pulp the sick twist who had hurt Moyo. The stunner could have killed Otak. As it was, the rat seemed as groggy as Rylando. While still bent over, he reached a surreptitious hand into the pouch to give Otak a reassuring stroke.
He supposed it was lucky that the stunner was low power and that the flexin-armor layer of his uniform deflected some of the energy. He’d been stunned before and knew what to expect. The involuntary muscle twitches would subside in about fifteen minutes, and his talent would return soon after.
“Call your partner.” The look on Po’s face said he enjoyed seeing others in pain.
Rylando sat back on his heels. He pointed to the earwire and turned his face to the side with the burn mark seared into his skin. “Can’t. You just fried the earwire.” Speaking irritated his throat and made him cough.
Po snarled and aimed the stunner again.
“Enough,” said Pelvannor. Her tone and expression held a hint of thunder.
Po glanced at her. After a long moment, he made an inarticulate growl and shoved the stunner back under his multi-layered tunic. “Fine. Get the farking shovels out. We’ll dig.”
That turned out to mean that Po sat and held the beamer while Pelvannor, Stramlo, and Rylando did the digging. At least Po took Rylando’s advice and let him use the materials scanner to determine that the wider side would be easier to dig through. Stramlo only gave Rylando his messenger bag to store on the floor of the airsled because Po threatened to shoot him if he didn’t.
On one of the trips to the airsled, Rylando surreptitiously let Otak out of the chest pocket. If Pelvannor noticed the giant rat scuttling into the back, she said nothing.
Unfortunately, digging stirred up more dust, causing them all to cough and sneeze. Every muscle hurt as he cleared debris from around a larger chunk of denscrete, but it helped get his circulation going after the stunner jolt.
Pelvannor’s prodigious strength made her fast and effective, but she paid a price by inhaling more of the dust. A nasty coughing fit caused her to stumble as she levered out a large hunk. It narrowly missed Stramlo’s foot, causing him to drop his shovel and lurch away.
Rylando turned to Po. “We’re using up oxygen. If it drops below twenty percent, none of us will be digging for long. The airsled has oxy meters and filter masks that’ll keep the pulverized denscrete out of our lungs. If the pipe excavator is intact, we can use it to drill through the rubble and get some fresh air in here.”
Po drew breath to speak but coughed instead. After recovering, he waved loose fingers. “Fine. Pelvannor, go with him. Don’t let him touch anything. Make him show you what to do.”
Inside the cramped airsled, Rylando pointed to an oval case attached to the bottom back wall. “That’s the excavator. Lock needs my biometrics.”
Pelvannor nodded.
He sank carefully to his bruised knees, then put his palms on the handles and turned them. The door sprang up, revealing the long, rifle-like rock cutter with the pipe printer attached.
“Give it to me,” ordered Pelvannor.
He released it from the holdfasts and did as she asked. “The controls are power, speed, and pipe diameter.” Nodding toward the tank at the bottom, he added, “That’s the substrate. Don’t make the pipe diameter too wide or you won’t have enough to make it to the other side of the cave-in.”
She coughed as she examined the controls. “Show me the masks.”
He closed the case, then shifted his position so he could move the two bins of parts and open the slim cabinet built into the wall of the airsled. “The ones on top are oxy concentrators with a simple eye shield. The middle ones have concentrators and better filters, but cover most of your face. Without earwires, we’ll have to shout.” He pointed his chin to the bottom set. “Those are for the animals.”
A frown flitted across her face as she eyed the masks.
Rylando wished he could read people as effectively as Taz could. He couldn’t guess what Pelvannor was thinking.
He dropped his head and turned it side to side to stretch his aching neck. A familiar shape in one of the parts bins caught his eye. He slid himself back farther, then pulled the parts bins back, as if giving her more room to maneuver.
As she set the cutter down, he pulled the bin even closer and palmed an earwire, then rubbed his hand down his thigh to help slide the earwire up his sleeve. The magic trick he’d learned as a child had turned out to be surprisingly useful in his adult life.
Pelvannor grabbed four of the better-filtered masks and handed one to him.
After he took it, he held it up by the bottom. “It seals better if you tilt it up from your chin, then pull the web over your head.” He flexed his wrist to demonstrate the motion. “Lift it up if you’re going to sneeze. It’s hard to get snot off the faceplate.”
She put hers on as instructed, then turned to pick up the cutter.
He used both hands to place his mask so he could slip the earwire onto his face and tap it for always-on. The mask covered it as he stretched the web up and over. The burned spot on his face felt like a bee sting.
When she gestured for him to follow, he rose to his feet and meekly complied.
Interestingly, Pelvannor didn’t provide wearing instructions when she handed the mask to Po and said nothing when he put it on wrong. Equally interestingly, Stramlo pulled his mask on with professional ease, barely disarranging his perfect wavy hair.
A tone sounded in his earwire. “Silver Team, report now, or I’m dumping my passengers and coming after you.” Hatya’s welcome voice sounded professionally calm but held a thread of worry.
Rylando bent over slowly to pick up a shovel and subvocalized as fast as he could. “Protocol TX Delta. Lift lobby, both exits blocked. Four lifesigns including me. Two hostages, including me. Taz last seen headed toward the deep basement with another lifesign and most of my team. Building unstable.”
He walked to the rubble pile and started digging again. Every time he turned his back on Po and Pelvannor, he subvocalized more details to Hatya.
“Ah, hell, Rylando, you two have been having fun without me. I’m five minutes from the ERC. After that, I’m bringing the shuttle for scans. Keep talking when you can.”
A hand waved in front of his face. When he looked up, masked Stramlo leaned close and shouted. “Po wants you.”
Rylando dropped the shovel and crossed to where irritable Po stood, awkwardly holding the cutter. Pelvannor was back to her stoic self.
Po thrust the cutter into Rylando’s arms. “Drill the goddamn air pipe.”
Unsurprisingly, Pelvannor followed to watch him closely as he used the cutter’s densometer to zero in on a thin spot, then set the tripod legs and turned on the cutter. As the debris lasers burned through the rubble, the printer extruded pipe into the deepening hole. Five minutes later, the lasers hit open air and shut down. He extruded the pipe several centimeters longer before turning off the printer and powering down the cutter.
As he folded the tripod legs, he realized they’d still be sucking increasingly stale air if Taz hadn’t salvaged the cutter from the regular military trash heap for repair. She’d even cleverly etched the GSAR logo over the cutter’s serial number in case someone asked. When, not if, he saw her again, he’d thank her.
Po eyed Rylando with suspicion. “Why didn’t you tell us it had a laser? We could have been cutting our way out.”
Unexpectedly, Stramlo answered. “It’s not a beam, it’s a pinpoint array. It’d take half a day to cut enough holes to make a one-meter slice.”
Po threw his hands up and stomped toward his perch. “Fine. Get back to digging.”
Rylando got Pelvannor’s attention, then pointed first to the cutter, then to the airsled. When she nodded, he carried it back inside and stowed it in its case.
He took the opportunity to subvocalize to Hatya. “If you have a choice, get Taz out first. Being trapped underground will be hard on her. And if there really are explosives, she’s in danger.”
“Working on it. I know she’s important to you.”
Hatya’s half-teasing lilt gave him an out, but the words cut through his defenses. He couldn’t lie to himself any longer. “Yes, she is.”
Shen sat down in front of the sixty-fourth Kem-X packet and barked twice, then barked twice again.
“Good job,” said Taz as she approached. She and the dog had worked out a steady rhythm, marching up and down the aisles, decommissioning every timer. Seventy-five minutes later, per her suit’s chronometer, here they were.
Galactic Search and Rescue: A Scifi Space Opera with Adventure, Romance, and Pets: A Central Galactic Concordance Novella Page 8
