Relic Hunted (Crax War Chronicles #2)

by Terry W. Ervin II

  The diagram showed the main area with its second tier overlooking the main computer-filled work area, including Dr. Goldsen’s office, and scattered attached side rooms and alcoves. To the left of the main double-door entrance, a hallway ran a short distance.

  “Seven offices and a lounge along this hall,” I said for confirmation. Dr. Goldsen nodded once.

  Using the main lab entrance as north, I ran my finger across the screen, to the south end of the east wall. “Beyond this door, two storage rooms jutting off this dogleg hallway with stairs down to the left and a bay holding an auxiliary life support system, a bank of batteries, and a compact backup fusion generator.” I knew where the other exit led: To the facility housing the Cranaltar device, and beyond one of the walls, the computer hardware supporting the experimental brain-probing machine. There wasn’t any information on the screen beyond that—probably Umbelgarri territory. In any case, I verified what I remembered. “This room beyond is where the Cranaltar device is housed, with an observation section above.”

  “Yes,” she said, following to where I pointed. “The Cranaltar area has an upper observation level. The processing and data transfer equipment is housed in a large room beyond.”

  “That’s where the heart of the device is located?”

  “That is where,” she started, then shook her head once. “Essentially, you are correct.”

  “Is there access to the Umbelgarri sector through that room?” I asked, recalling an encounter with a crab-like Bahklack there prior to being hooked up to the Cranaltar device.

  “Yes. But it is secure and only accessible if they allow.”

  The way she said ‘secure’ indicated her belief in that route’s impenetrability. Maybe to humans. Maybe not to Crax. “Is there an external entry to the observation area?” I asked.

  “There is,” she said, “via an isolated hallway. Or was. There are two reinforced blast doors. They appear steel, just like the main entrance.” She tipped her head, looking over the top of her wire glasses toward the entrance to the main work area, and whispered again. “Umbelgarri alloy. Very few people are aware of that fact. After your recovery and the Documentary viewing were complete, the stairwell leading to that portion of the medical research area was filled with rubble fused into place. Although there is no direct evidence, I believe the Umbelgarri requested that access route be closed.”

  That might explain why Guymin shifted me to the Cranaltar facility instead of my initial posting outside the main medical research facility. I figured some colony personnel might suspect that certain doors had been reinforced with an Umbelgarri alloy, despite the fact it wasn’t advertised.

  “Understood,” I said to Dr. Goldsen before holding up a finger while listening to Colony Command. “Switch your computer to command frequency two.”

  I quickly assessed the tactical situation that appeared on her desk screen. “See here?” I pointed. “We’ve one gunboat and two police cutters forming up with what I’d bet is an Umbelgarri battle cruiser.” The sleek planarian-shaped vessel dwarfed the human ships, not only in size but also in firepower. “They appear to be expecting trouble, sooner rather than later.”

  Dr. Goldsen nodded. “I suspected they had a big ship hidden on the surface. I believe there is also a number of our smaller spacecraft.” She paused, searching for the names. “Fighters and attack craft.”

  “They’re up there,” I said, showing the squadron on the screen, leading the gunboat and cutters. I kept my voice just above a whisper. “I just hope this moon is packed with ground-based firepower.” Why would the Umbelgarri reveal their cruiser? Maybe a show of force to deter an attack?

  “There are a multitude of weapons,” said Dr. Goldsen, “but my knowledge lacks specifics.”

  “Keesay,” Agent Guymin said over my com-set, again running with secure random encoding-decoding. “The Cranaltar facility is considered a possible target of the oncoming raid, either through bombardment or ground assault. The latter of the two determined to be unlikely.” His voice was rote, as if concentrating on a half-dozen other tasks. He probably was.

  “This colony,” he continued, “has limited security and military personnel and wasn’t built with defensibility in mind. Colony Command may send several Colonial Marines your way, but don’t count on it. Notify Dr. Goldsen that Communication Lockdown Protocol, Alpha Nine One will be enacted within the next two minutes. Then, do what you can to prepare the Cranaltar Research Facility to resist capture or destruction.”

  “Understood.”

  “Guymin, out.”

  I turned to Dr. Goldsen. “Communication Lockdown, Protocol Alpha Nine One will be enacted in less than two minutes. I’m not a part of the colony security team, but I can guess the lockdown’s objective.”

  She began tapping at her screen. “I have sent a summary of the lockdown’s parameters to your com-set’s ocular display.”

  I flipped the switch that turned on my ocular. The mic-mounted device was supposed to project a display into my right eye. I’d gotten used to the setup while serving aboard the civil transport Kalavar. With effort I could shift visual focus, reducing projected images to background shadows when not of primary concern.

  The received text image was blurry, reminding me of Agent Vingee’s earlier comment. “My ocular hasn’t been calibrated.”

  “That can be resolved, Mr. Keesay,” Dr. Goldsen said, retrieving my online medical file. “I have the exact facial measurements, dimensions of the relevant eye, including the lens, which is the main variable.” She smiled as she relayed information from her files to my com-set, accurately calibrating the ocular device.

  “Thank you,” I said, beginning to read the text display.

  The communications lockdown protocol limited communication to within pods, except for select individuals. The medical research lab was a pod and Dr. Goldsen would have external access.

  I checked my com-set. We both could send and receive external communications. Otherwise, nothing outgoing and only incoming sources routed through and approved by Colony Command. Like me, I figured Agents Guymin and Vingee wouldn’t be restricted.

  The lockdown would be enacted in less than a minute without forewarning, with the local leader tasked to determine if, when, and how the lockdown would be announced. In addition, movement from the immediate area was to be restricted, unless urgent circumstances necessitated it as determined by the local leader—Dr. Goldsen—and Colony Command authorized it.

  Those attempting to circumvent communication lockdown or restricted movement were to be prevented, through any means necessary, as determined by the local leader. And I was Dr. Goldsen’s enforcer, should it come to that.

  Gazing out at the group, most in view, still busy checking and securing secondary computers and systems, I didn’t see treachery as likely. But I didn’t anticipate Tech Marshner’s attempted assault upon me. Apparently nobody did.

  The lockdown protocol might hinder communication should the Crax bombard Io’s surface and damage subterranean areas. That didn’t consider electronic jamming. Relays were hardwired to wireless hubs, as backup, but that redundancy could be severed. It was similar to the setup I remembered from my stationing on Pluto—which was soon to be, if not already, under attack. But, if there were others compromised like Marshner, or strongly sympathetic to CGIG, Colony Command’s effort made even more sense, especially if a surface to subsurface assault occurred.

  Thinking about that, and considering the diversionary attack on Pluto, the Crax might believe they’ll have more than adequate time for bombardment from space before a counterattack could be mounted. Or a ground assault to achieve their objective, whatever that might be. Having fought the Crax, my gut said they’d attempt a ground assault.

  The facility’s warning lights shifted from yellow to orange and the claxon sounded again, at a faster cadence. My watch indicated two minutes had passed since Guymin’s last contact.

  “Dr. Goldsen,” I said, “get your people in here.”r />
  Chapter 5

  I watched the concerned and frightened faces as Dr. Goldsen’s people crowded into her office. The only one I knew was Dr. Chahal, a dark-haired neuro-chemist, with a trimmed mustache who stood only an inch taller than me, something pretty rare for an I-Tech. He worked with me during my recovery from the Cranaltar procedure, demonstrating a sharp mind and wit, and a friendly sense of humor.

  After announcing my presence as her security advisor, Dr. Goldsen addressed her staff, including Dr. Lundox, like her a biochemical engineer with a PhD in neuropsychology and wearing a white lab coat, two information systems analysts in peach-colored coveralls, two white-clad med tech lab assistants, and two maintenance technicians in standard tan coveralls. All except for Dr. Lundox hung on her every word.

  “My information concurs with that of Security Specialist Keesay. A Crax force of unknown composition is or will soon mount an attack on the outpost colonies and the associated spaceport and industrial facilities on Pluto, and possibly Charon.”

  Those weren’t my exact words, but close.

  “Though I cannot confirm it, Specialist Keesay believes the Crax are preparing to mount a similar attack on this research colony, potentially land assault units here on Io. If the Crax do attempt a military assault, a logical target is the adjoining Umbelgarri outpost. Conceivably, this facility may be considered a conduit to such an end. As such, I am placing Specialist Keesay in charge of formulating a defense strategy.”

  Anyone with a pair of eyes could read the skepticism on all but a few faces. They either believed that Io’s facilities were too insignificant to merit Crax attention, or they believed the A-Tech Umbelgarri defenses would repel any attack. Didn’t they realize that the Primus Crax were equally tech advanced, and out to eliminate the Umbelgarri and all of their allies? And succeeding? I’d read news reports of people who didn’t believe there was even a war going on and that the Crax invasion was little more than a clever ploy to manipulate resources and incur larger corporate profit margins. I’d have bet that one or two of Dr. Goldsen’s staff doubted Pluto was under attack.

  All except the biochemical engineer glanced at me before looking back to their project leader. He crossed his arms and glared at me with his broad brown eyes. “What qualifies a fourth class security specialist to assess Crax intentions and to formulate counter tactics?” Dr. Lundox was a dark-skinned man with short, curly hair. He’d cosmetically added graying to his temples.

  Dr. Goldsen started to speak, but I interrupted her and met his eyes with my own hardened stare. “Unless a squad of Colonial Marines shows up I’m all you’ve got. My guess is reinforcements aren’t coming and we don’t have time for debate.”

  Dr. Goldsen stepped between us. “I have placed Specialist Keesay in charge of securing this research facility.”

  “That shouldn’t be difficult,” the PhD said, continuing his stare-down. “The blast doors are a 9.6 centimeter thick Umbelgarri alloy. It’ll take time for the Crax, even the Primus Crax, to get through that…should they even attack this facility, let alone initiate a ground assault. If that remote possibility comes to pass, Earth will have mounted a counterstrike.”

  Addressing more than Dr. Lundox, I said, “I’ve fought the Crax. They’re skilled and tenacious. They’ll be well equipped, both in space and on the ground. More than we can handle.” I gazed beyond Dr. Goldsen’s staff, into the main lab area. “Maybe my information is wrong, maybe I’m wrong. If so, we’ll have wasted some time and resources, and have a mess to clean up. If I’m right, it might make the difference between surviving and not.” I paused. “Poorly equipped to repel such an attack, it might mean that we’ll die anyway, but we’ll go down taking some of them with us.”

  I turned my back on Dr. Lundox. “Dr. Goldsen, this is what I need your people to do.” I tapped at the desk screen. “They’ll make for this facility once they get past the outer defenses. If for no other reason than it may provide access to the Umbelgarri area.”

  Dr. Lundox cleared his throat. “What makes you think they’ll know where this facility is and its proximity to the Umbelgarri complex?”

  “Dr. Goldsen,” I said, “either you shut him up, or I will.”

  Dr. Goldsen turned on the PhD. “Dr. Lundox, the number of Gar Crax this man has killed surpasses your scientific publishing credits, twofold.” She stepped back. “If you have overlooked his propensity toward effective violence, that fact should remind you of it. If he determines it is in our best interest to incapacitate you, I will not interfere.”

  I didn’t wait for a response. I’d witnessed carnage inflicted by the Crax and their allies. Even if the scientists didn’t fully realize their peril, giving them time to imagine it wouldn’t help. Keeping them focused on fortification tasks would keep me busy, too. “We need to set up a layered defense to delay them.” I took a breath, searching to rattle loose any feasible trick or tactic. “Dr. Goldsen, do you have access to any highly combustible liquids?”

  She nodded and started to list them off, “Acetone, isopropyl alcohol, oxygen, hydrogen.”

  I cut her off. “No time. Dr. Chahal, select a volatile one that’ll react to an electric current.” I pointed to one of the medical assistants and a maintenance tech. “Remove eight or ten florescent light tubes in the hallway outside of this facility and fill them with it.”

  Before anyone could ask why, I made eye contact with the selected maintenance tech after reading her name tag. “Tech Gorgio, the lights in the hall. There’s a conduit to them?”

  She nodded, her round face held taught while her curly hair bounced.

  “Good. Run wiring and set a switch in the lab. Disconnect them from established circuitry.” I looked at the assistant next to Gorgio. “Med Tech Yaley, that jell that you fill the tanks to immobilize patients for the Cranaltar, it’s pretty slick?”

  “It is,” she said. “Especially when a small amount of the jelling agent is added. But it’s not flammable.”

  She’d guessed the purpose of the lights.

  “Didn’t think so,” I said. “If it was, it might tip our hand. After the lights are rigged, coat the hallway floor with it.” I recalled being placed in the gel prior to my experience under the Cranaltar. “And add a little something that will make it conduct electricity.”

  “How much?”

  “Cover as much of the hallway as you can. Walls if you have extra. I pointed to the other med tech. “You, Corbett, assist her.”

  That left Dr. Goldsen, Dr. Lundox, one maintenance tech, and the two systems analysts. “Dr. Goldsen, I recall the lab area having sound dampeners. Can you adjust them to counter the Stegmar sounding?”

  “There is an experimental program which has proven up to seventy-five percent effective within a confined area. Do you want me to access, calibrate, and enable it?”

  “Yes, Doctor. And you’re in charge of the blast doors. Opening and closing them. There’s three hallway security cameras. Deactivate the one twenty yards—meters down the hall.”

  When she nodded, I turned to the PhD. “Lundox, your skills are needed.” He’d watched me while I’d given directives, but was looking away when I addressed him.

  He stepped forward. “My apologies,” he began, but I interrupted him.

  “We can patch things up later. Stegmar weapons fire needles coated with a paralyzing toxin. The Colonial Marines have a broad spectrum antidote. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Actually, Specialist, I possess a cursory knowledge. The chemical components should be in our stockroom nearby. As a senior research coordinator I have access to the components and the necessary details.”

  “Be about it,” I said. He darted out of the office faster than I expected.

  I made eye contact with the remaining maintenance tech. “There’s a backup generator down the hall.” I recalled from Dr. Goldsen’s diagram identifying it as a micro-fusion 250 megawatt generator. “Can you fire it up, Tech Yin? And direct its power to an outlet—better yet alon
g a cable to reach inside the lab near the door?”

  He thought a moment, then nodded.

  I wanted to set a trap similar to what a lieutenant commander did aboard the Kalavar. In desperate combat to defeat the Crax boarding, Commander Devans urinated on a plastic tarp and killed a Gar Crax by thrusting a hot cable onto it. Devans died, electrocuted in the effort. Just as I finished explaining the plan to Tech Yin, Agent Guymin contacted me via my com-set.

  “Keesay, estimate no more than ten minutes until the enemy drops out of condensed space. How long before it comes to combat depends on how far they appear from Io. Anticipate our def-sats and the few combat capable spacecraft in the area won’t be able to fend them off. They’ll certainly have anticipated Umbelgarri ground to space weapons. My guess is that we’ll have to hold out three hours for Earth forces to organize and mount a counterattack.”

  “Are we the only ones in the solar system targeted?”

  “Negative. Pluto is under attack as well. Small scale, but more than the local defense can handle.”

  I’d been stationed on Pluto. Ethane collection operations and layover for ships harvesting ice in the Kuiper Belt, some warehouses. Several tri-beam defense lasers and a handful of orbiting def-sats—unless it’d been upgraded in the past couple years.

  “Any chance for reinforcements down here?”

  “Negative, Keesay. Sorry.”

  I looked around, with two systems analysts and Dr. Goldsen watching me. I only had my shotgun, duty revolver and backup pistol, newly obtained MP pistol, stun baton, bayonet, two grenades, and a set of brass knuckles. Not good. I spoke into my mic again. “Any chance I might send someone to pick up some weapons? MP or laser carbines?”

  “Actually, Keesay, Special Agent Vingee should be arriving with a supply of small arms.”

  “Will she be staying?” I asked, trying to keep hope from seeping into my voice. Medical doctors and systems analysts? Earnest as they might be, they’d be about as effective as Conscript Moorsheen was, a marketing and sales analysts who died on Tallavaster just after the Crax attack began.