'Those pictures were quite revolting,' Rhonda said.
Lester seemed to shrink a little.'Yes, dear. But I only meant that... they brought home the reality of the suffering.'
He felt himself begin to sweat. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that the young woman was still watching him. Why should somebody so attractive have to start paying attention to him now of all times?
'We do not need to be exposed to the nauseating details,' Rhonda Plecht said flatly.'Everybody knows wars are unpleasant.'
'Yes, dear,' Lester agreed meekly.
'But perhaps some people need to be reminded from time to time?' the girl said, unexpectedly standing her ground against Rhonda in a way Lester hadn't done for twenty years.
Rhonda Plecht sniffed again, as though to indicate that respectable people knew what should be seen and what should be left well alone.
'I must say it is a little inconsiderate of the company to send a party over there after what happened to the Nimosians,' Lester continued, trying desperately to divert Rhonda's attention from the girl, who was still standing really too close to him.'It might be dangerous.'
'Might it?' came an excited voice.
Dan Engers had joined the growing crowd at the rail with his slightly embarrassed father in tow.
'That child ought to be in bed,' Rhonda Plecht told Engers Senior. 'Let him have his fun,' the young woman said before the man could respond. Lester cringed and took a surreptitious step away from her. She was actually going to argue with Rhonda!
However, Dan spoke up for himself. 'I'm allowed to stay up when we're on holiday if there's something special. Don Delray might be chasing aliens out of there any minute now.' He had clearly come prepared to do battle in support of his hero, armed as he was with a toy raygun.
'They won't be doing anything of the sort, young man,' Rhonda Plecht said censoriously.'Really! All this fuss about an old wreck. Still, anything to prevent those dreadful Nimosians from getting their hands on it, I suppose.'
'Yes, dear,' Lester Plecht said with relief.
'Well, if you've satisfied your curiosity, we shall return to our compartment and try to get a little sleep.'
With a last disapproving glance that took in the gathering crowd on the promenade, she swept away, Lester trailing meekly behind her.As he rounded the corner he glanced back wistfully at the sight of people innocently enjoying themselves. He caught the eye of the young woman again, and she gave him another of those wonderful smiles, tinged with sympathy. He was sure she understood his situation and felt sorry for him.
He felt his hand begin to lift in an acknowledging wave, but then came a shout of,'There they are!' and she turned her attention back to the stars.
Chapter 7
Out of the Shadows?
Kale Rexton stared intently at the image of the derelict as it filled the monitor screen that extended from the arm of his seat.
He felt that familiar heightening of the senses he associated with going out on patrol in the days when he'd been flying from the good old Griffon, bless her creaking launch ramps. It made everyday existence seem pallid by comparison, merely a prelude to the real purpose of life. It was a feeling he thought he had lost for ever. But now fete had dealt him one more hand. At last, after all these years, they ought have the answers they wanted. By our resolve we shall prevail, he reminded himself silently.
He glanced around him at the crew of the shuttle Doria .
The Doctor and his assistant were currently examining the image of the derelict on their own screens and exchanging murmured words. He'd have to keep an eye on them, especially the Doctor. He was harder than he looked. Rexton resented their presence, of course, but military training had taught him to turn circumstances to his advantage.The pair might yet have other uses before the mission was over.
The same could probably not be said about Delray and Wynter. He could just about tolerate the photographer, but an actor! Still, their presence had undeniably improved morale on the Cirrandaria .The rails had been lined by waving passengers when they set off. He just hoped the pair would stay out of his way.
The professional shuttle personnel, he decided, probably represented the best that could be assembled in the time from what there was available.
Bendix he already knew was keen enough. Perhaps a little brash and overconfident, but that was not necessarily a fault if one had the nerve to back it, as he judged Bendix did. He'd been the same himself once.
Manders, the chief engineer, and her two assistants were presently nursing the counter-interference system, which had been hastily retrofitted to the shuttle. They were an unknown quantity, but Lanchard had assured him of their competence.
The pilot navigator, Lieutenant Jenez, appeared ridiculously young and had apparently graduated only a year ago. From the expression on his face it was clear the whole business was an adventure to him. But his hands were steady on the controls and he flew the small craft with precision and assurance. Rexton hoped the reflexes of youth would not be put to the test in the next few minutes.
Rexton leaned forward from his seat immediately behind Jenez and pointed.
'There, Lieutenant. Under the overhanging shelf to the right. There should be an airlock hatch large enough for us.'
'I see it, sir,'Jenez replied.
Bendix, in the right-hand seat, glanced across at him curiously. But if he wondered how Rexton knew where to direct them, then he had the sense not to ask. The Doctor, however, had no such inhibitions.
'You seem very familiar with the layout of the alien ship, Councillor,' he observed mildly.
'I've been studying it carefully,' Rexton replied. The Doctor raised his eyebrows but said nothing more.
The derelict became a wall of intricate complexity gliding against the ports.
Rexton waited for the first sign of instability, but their trajectory remained smooth.
'Engineer, what is the status of the counter-interference generator?'
'If it wasn't functioning properly you'd already know it, Councillor,' Mander replied simply.'As long as we keep below five hundred k.p.h. we should manage.'
Rexton sat back in his seat with a slight smile. He could accept a straight reply as long as the speaker knew their business.
The last of the key crew members Rexton was less concerned about.
Dessel, the Cirrandaria's master-at-arms, was an ex-soldier. Only he looked at ease with the pistol strapped to the waist of his suit. He was also cradling a heavier riot-control gun in his arms.
Nothing like the firepower the Nimosians could muster, of course, but Rexton realised he should be grateful regulations demanded interstellar liners carry basic armaments at all - a hangover from the last skirmish with the Nimosians. He reminded himself to see that provisions were strengthened when this was all over.
Of course, if all went well, perhaps there would be no need for Emindian civilian ships to carry weapons ever again.
'Pulse signal coming in from Cirrandaria ', Bendix said from the forward console. "The Nimosians have acknowledged our message informing them we would be landing a party... and they say they're about to do the same!'
'So it will be a race after all,' the Doctor said.
***
Matt Tane hunched forward, staring out of the viewport of the shuttle Resolve at the slowly swelling bulk of the derelict. He wished they could travel faster but cautioned himself against impatience. The counterphase generator that Reng was monitoring in the compartment behind him put a strict upper limit on their safe speed. He consoled himself with the knowledge that it was probably the same for the Emindian shuttle.
It was an interesting irony that both sides had overcome the interference to allow them to land on the derelict within minutes of each other. And the Emindians had taken such trouble to ensure they knew they had a Moderator with them.Trying to win favour with the Federation, no doubt.
Well that would not prevent him carrying out his orders .The Emindians would soon discover that merely landing on the dere
lict was one thing, taking control of it quite another.
***
The entrance hatch, which Sam saw was segmented like a camera shutter, nestled in the valley between two of the huge projecting fins that grew out of the base of the derelict's central tower. At Rexton's direction, Jenez set the Doria down beside the fifteen-metre-wide ring. The hiss of the underjets died away as the craft settled on its landing skids.
'Down and secure, sir,'Jenez reported.
'There should be a manual control point close by,' Rexton said briskly, fastening his suit.
'You'll not go outside without an escort, General,' said Dessel firmly.
Rexton smiled. 'Thank you, Mr Dessel.'
'Perhaps we should stretch our legs as well,' the Doctor suggested, as he and Sam locked down their visors.
'As you will,' Rexton said.
Wynter and Delray were also preparing to exit the craft. Sam saw a look of disdain pass over Rexton's face.
'You understand I take no responsibility for your safety out there,' he told them.
Lyset nodded impatiently while Delray said lightly, 'Message received, Councillor.'
They squeezed into the Doria's small airlock and waited as the air was exhausted. After half a minute the outer hatch slid open and a small flight of steps unfolded. Before descending they fastened inertia-reel tethers to their belts and clipped the ends to eyelets beside the airlock. If there was a gravity shift Jenez could hold the shuttle steady with the thrusters and gyrostabiliser until they could pull themselves back inside.They stepped down on to the hull of the derelict, moving easily in the half-gravity field. As Rexton flashed his torch about him Lyset Wynter began snapping pictures eagerly.
Sam noted that 'down' was now almost directly below them, indicating that the derelict's centre of gravity must have shifted away from its far end. They hadn't detected the change from space so it must have been less spectacular than before. Sam hoped the derelict was settling into some state of equilibrium.
The artificial valley, which was about thirty metres across, curved smoothly up into the great fins that enclosed it on either side, reducing the sky to a strip of speckled blackness that arched over their heads. The dancing circles of their torches picked out muddy rainbows of colour that rippled across the floor and into the -walls, reminding her of folded rock sediments.
At either end of the valley two more of the fins cut the sky. They were pierced at right angles by two of the slender columns rising from the main hull of the derelict.
'Over there,' Rexton said, his beam picking out a scalloped alcove in the base of one of the fins. Even over a few metres the interference crackle threatened to drown the signal of his suit transmitter. They loped across the green-bronze-rippled floor in long strides. A raised black disc or wheel some half-metre across was set at head height in the wall at the back of the alcove. Mounted on opposite sides of its rim were two short projecting pegs. Its function was obvious.
Rexton grasped the pegs and twisted the wheel in a clockwise direction.
It didn't move. Rexton tried again, exerting more force. Sam heard his grunt of effort.
'Needs a spot of oil, perhaps?' the Doctor suggested.
'Let me take one side, sir,' Dessel said.
But their combined strength could not budge the wheel.
The Doctor examined their surroundings as they strained. His torch beam came to rest on a panel a little to one side of the disc. It was patterned with a six-by-six grid of fist-sized raised squares, each of which had a distinctive geometric character embossed upon it. Sam saw squares with a dot in the centre, zigzags, right angles, a channel, arrow heads with a dot in the corner opposite the arrow point and what might have been a pi symbol.After a moment she realised there were only six symbols in different combinations and orientations on the panel.
'A code lock?' Sam wondered aloud, as Rexton and Dessel ceased their futile efforts.'Base-six numerology?'
'Perhaps,' the Doctor said, tilting his head from side to side as he examined the array.'I don't suppose you know the solution?' he asked Rexton.
'Would I be wasting my time here if I did?' Rexton said sharply. Wynter and Delray had walked across to join them and the flash of her camera was obviously not improving his temper.
'No, I don't suppose you would,' the Doctor agreed, continuing to scrutinise the panel. 'You just expected it to be unlocked.'
'What I expected is of no concern of yours, Doctor,' Rexton said.'If you have any useful suggestions to offer I am prepared to listen to them.
Otherwise we will find another hatchway and try that.'
'And if that's also locked?'
'Then I will send back to the ship for cutting equipment.'
'You don't think this might be a sign that your presence is not welcome?'
the Doctor suggested.'Locked doors often are.'
'Any crew have had ample opportunity to communicate with us before now.
It is a derelict and, one way or another, I am going to take possession of it.'
'Yes, you are determined, aren't you?' the Doctor agreed after a moment's silence. 'I suppose I can at least prevent unnecessary damage.'
And he turned to the panel and depressed six of the keys with his palm in quick succession.'Now try the wheel.'
With evident incredulity Rexton grasped the manual-release wheel and twisted.This time it turned smoothly. Sam swung her torch about to see the segments of the hatchway set in the floor of the valley begin to slide open, revealing darkness beneath. Lyset loped quickly over to it.
Delray said,'Careful Lys. Don't fall in!'
'It's just a landing bay,' she said, taking another picture. 'About twenty metres deep. Seems to be empty. Plenty big enough for the shuttle.'
Rexton stared at the Doctor.'How did you know the correct code?' he demanded.
'I simply worked it out,' the Doctor replied. 'You could have done the same if you'd thought about it.'
Rexton looked baffled but apparently decided not to press the matter further.'Back to the shuttle,' he ordered.
Sam turned off her radio for a moment and touched her helmet against the Doctor's so only he could hear her.'How did you do that?'
'It was very simple.Too simple. Quite absurd in the circumstances.'
'How do you mean absurd?'
'Tell you later.' He sounded more concerned than he had before.
Dessel took over at the wheel and slowly the hatch aperture widened. In a minute it was fully open.They made their way back to the Doria's airlock, reeling in their safety lines as they went. As they climbed the steps Sam took one last glance around - and halted abruptly.
'What's that?' she said, pointing down the valley.
'Where?' Lyset asked, swinging her camera about eagerly.
'Something moved,' Sam said. 'Around the far corner of the right-hand fin, or hill or whatever it is. It was dark - man-sized, I think. It was just there for a moment, then it slipped aside.'
The others strained their eyes but could see nothing.
Sam shivered. From being a place of wonder the bleak, starlit, improbably artificial landscape suddenly seemed full of shadows and menace.'I think we're being watched,' she said quietly.
'I wouldn't be at all surprised,' the Doctor agreed.
'It may be a Nimosian scout,' Rexton declared.'We know they were heading for the other side of the ship, but they may have sent somebody round. The sooner we get inside and close the hatch the better. Pilot, signal the Cirrandaria that we're about to enter the alien ship.'
***
Over five hundred metres away on the other side of the tower, Tane shielded his eyes against the glare of the primitive but functional gas cutting beam. So far they had found two small hatches, but both had been locked. Tane had decided not to spend time puzzling out their opening codes. Now they were employing more direct methods against the third and larger hatchway they had come across.
TheResolve rested on the narrow strip of level surface between the edge of the
pipework tangle and the base of the tower. While the technicians were working on the hatch the marines were spaced in a ring around them, looking out alertly along the long furrowed hill that was the main hull of the derelict. Sho was moving between his men, following the safety lines they had strung across the derelict's surface. Tane could see his helmet turning from side to side as he ceaselessly scanned their surroundings. He had to admit he found his presence reassuring, for there was an uneasy atmosphere about this vast silent hulk. This was the place Technician Kerven had died, and his body was probably no more than a couple of kilometres away. When they secured the craft for Nimos a proper search would have to be mounted for him. He hoped he would not get that detail.
The blue-white brilliance of the cutter faded, leaving a glowing cherry-red groove in the material of the hatch. Reng pushed up his tinted visor and examined it.
'Well?'Tane asked impatiently.
'It'll be a long job; Reng said. "This stuff's highly conductive and the heat dissipates too quickly.'
"Then we'll have to punch a hole. How thick is it?'
'At least ten centimetres - that's the deepest I've got, anyway.'
Tane scowled. Standard demolition packs wouldn't do.They'd need Type Seven shaped-ring charges. More than he'd bargained for.
'I'll send theResolve back for heavier charges. Meanwhile try another spot.
See if you can find somewhere thinner.'
Tane trudged back towards the Resolve until he stood at the foot of its extended ramp within its counter-interference field. To his relief, the persistent crackle over his earphones faded and he could speak normally.
'Argen, go back to the ship and collect some extra explosive packs. I'll send and tell them what I need so it'll be ready for you -'
He saw a flicker out of the corner of his eye, and felt a momentary sensation of dizziness. He took a step aside to steady himself and looked around him. Was this the prelude to another gravity shift? Nobody else seemed to notice anything amiss. Reng's team were still crouched by the surface hatch and the marines appeared as vigilant as ever. Was this place getting to him?
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