by Robert Culp
“Roger, Boss. Coordinates for an LZ?” Just as I’m about to answer, the loading boss reports the base is aboard and secure. Shawna acknowledges him and presses the buttons to close the cargo hatch.
“No planned landing zone yet,” I tell her. “Aria predicts we’ll have visibility of the ground at about twenty thousand feet. I guess we’ll see. We’ll figure that out when we get below the clouds, I suppose.”
“Angels twenty it shall be.”
Once all the checks are complete, we launch and head for BaineRa’ah IV.
As Aria predicted, we start getting sporadic ground visibility at an estimated altitude of twenty-five kilometers. We are over the night side of the planet. There are two “cities” in view.
“Reeber!” I yell. “I need to know what you know.”
“The planet is class three,” he answers. “It has a thin but breathable atmosphere. Hydrology: unknown at this time. Mean population and anthropological data are unknown at this time but are accumulating. The cities look to be about the size that would support fifty- to sixty-thousand each, and, just eyeballing them, to be about nine hundred miles apart. We have detected no vehicles flying and no satellites or orbital stations. The launch’s sensors are about sixty percent degraded most likely by some atmospheric pollution.”
“So a whole lot of nothing,” I say. “Any topographic data yet?”
“Geo-survey computer is drawing maps as we speak. I should have them available for our next pass.”
We’re leaving the night side. Shawna increases altitude and cuts velocity to mask our contrails then toggles over to the private channel. “Any preference?” she asks.
“I trust your judgment. I don’t have any reason to pick one city over the other. If we could land with at least one terrain feature—preferably a hill mass or a ridge—between us and a city but still be within four clicks, that would be ideal.” I go back to the “everyone” channel. Just musing aloud. “With no space industry, the chances of getting star charts are pretty slim.”
“Boss!” Reeber yells. “There’s a thick cloud mass enveloping the planet. It’s made up of some pretty dense gases. Nothing toxic, but the ionization has to be what’s fouling the sensors. With cloud cover like that, the locals may not know there are stars. Topo charts are available, channel seven.”
I pull up the chart on the center screen. Shawna and I look at it. She stabs a finger at a flat spot on the chart and says, “Ok, that area looks good. There’s a place in a valley that looks pretty well hidden, but there’s access to—what are those, train stations?—just over three kilometers away. I think that’s our best bet.”
“I like it,” I tell her. “Set us down there.” We’re coming back to the night side.
Reeber is talking again. “There are nuclear reactors and manufacturing plants everywhere. Serious levels of emissions that have created or at least exacerbated that cloud effect.”
Shawna sets the launch down in a valley, near a grove of trees. The chart shows a stream two hundred meters inside the tree line. Nice place. It would be a great locale for a picnic, or a honeymoon.
“Nice flying, Shawna. Get the launch shut down and quiet. If I remember the TMs correctly, these launches have standalone generators and solar units so we can recharge the batteries. If you haven’t already, please put your hands on the things and make sure the maintenance is current. If you need another pair of hands, take Loki or Seams.” I start barking out more orders: “Avi, you and Doyle do some atmospheric scans to include the water and plant life. Our trip will be a moot point if we all die due to some local toxin. Everyone is on bottled air while outside the launch until Dr. Took gives the ‘all clear.’ Jonesy, Sherri, scout out about a thirteen hundred meter radius. Make note of high-speed avenues of approach and plant PSAS stakes. Also, see if you can figure out what mode of transport is common. I’m guessing for short distances, it will all be ground based.” I pause and look at the crew (more to take a breath than for effect.) “All right, everyone, if you leave the launch, you do it in pairs. No one goes outside unarmed until I say otherwise. I’ll be with the ship’s receiver looking for nearby broadcasts. Once the area is declared secure, we all start in camouflaging the cutter and setting up the base camp. Any questions?” There aren’t. “Then let’s get hot, folks. When Jonesy and Sherri get back, they’ll brief us on what they found.”
While monitoring the COM, I get signals comparable to high frequency amplitude modulation transmission systems…a lot of power and long range. I hear a digital signal but it is impossible to decipher without the key. What is in plain speech, I don’t understand. All I can say is they sound confident. That implies politics, military, or religion.
After ten minutes, Avi reports that the air is not the best, but breathable by our standards. Although, if we’re doing anything strenuous, he recommends using bottled air and/or taking frequent breaks. The atmosphere around the planet amazingly still maintains an average 17.4% O2 content.
Jonesy and Sherri call my perCom in about forty-five minutes. They found an elevated MagTrain track to the north, about a click and a half away. Sherri says their binoculars show a station. She wants to set up some cameras. I consent with the caveat that they, she and Jonesy, are not detected. It adds an hour to their patrol time. When they get back, I call everybody together for a team huddle and ask for their conclusions.
Avi reports for Medical: “I recommend we sleep in the base or the launch with air scrubbers running, and outside we alternate between local and bottled air, no longer than an hour of local air at a time with as much time on the bottle for the first twenty four hours. The local air is as clean, with respect to biological impurities, as it is on Atlas or Goliath, but much thinner.”
Jones addresses the Infantry: “Data is coming in from the cameras we set to watch the train station. From there we could not see our cutter. So far, we haven’t seen anything more advanced than laser carbines and what looks like primitive ceramic armor. There’s nothing flying and nothing on the ground except military vehicles. We watched a column of wheeled vehicles heading south from the city. We estimate the weight range from quarter-ton to five-ton.”
Shawna talks about local power: “We have external power for our duration. We can also supplement with solar conversion. The cloud cover reduces it, but the collectors are getting enough light to charge the batteries.”
I brief signal and basic situation: “The bad news is that the only transmissions we detect are unintelligible. They are probably using an encryption on top of a language unknown to us. The good news is our equipment appears superior to the locals if we have to start shooting, which I desperately hope we don’t. For the while, we’ll do our poking around at night and hunker down during the day. I’m planning a patrol in the future to parallel the train to the nearer of the two cities. Going will be Seams, Loki, Avi, Reeber and me. Sherri, you and Jonesy will pull at least a fifty-fifty security while we’re gone.”
I conclude: “It is now 1630. Eyeballing the bright spot on the cloud, I suspect to be the sun, there are about three hours of light left. The temp is about 111 Fahrenheit. First we get the base set up, pressurized and functional. Then everybody helps on the camo mission. Once that’s done, we’ll implement a sleep plan. Questions? Good. Everyone grab something that cuts. Let’s get this can buried.” Everyone gets up to go.
Sherri pulls me to one side. “I urge you in the strongest language possible: Take me and Jones instead of those frickin’ deck scrubbers. Neither of them can hit a barn door with a meson cannon.”
“I was thinking of leaving my experience here to protect the ship, but truthfully, I’d rather have you along. I’ll think on it and let you know.” We go outside and pitch in with the area improvement exercise. As the sun sinks, we lay the last branch on the ship.
We wait and watch for five days. The temperature is always high just like the humidity. Avi pushes water and rest. Trains travel the tracks near us six times daily. Most that we have seen are carryi
ng personnel. Over time, we pick a target and a time. There’s not really an embassy to drop in on or a party to crash. If we want information, it’s time to kidnap someone.
It’s afternoon on our eighth day. Shawna has come out of her flight suit and is holding her canteen and a washcloth in hand. “I need a bath. Anybody want to wash my back? Or my front?”
Sherri and Doyle each raise a hand, looking to me for approval. “Have fun, I’ll sit this one out. Just clean up after yourselves. Sherri, don’t pull anything. Change of plans: Seams and Loki will do local security. Jonesy, you and Sherri will be going on patrol in their places. Patrol leaves in two hours.” Sherri is already grinning, Jonesy shows no emotion. Loki and Seams look a touch relieved.
I wag a finger at Avi. “Come up to the bridge and look at something for me?” When we get there, I close the door behind us. “I suppose you’d like a quickie, as well, before we get too busy?”
“You’re breaking your own rules. You are ‘Boss’ on this trip, remember?”
“There are no problems with my memory. I remember exactly what I said. Is that a yes or a no?”
“A most emphatic ‘No.’ I want our lovemaking to be a special time; not a quickie. Please forgive me, but I think that would cheapen our relationship. And I can’t tell you exactly why I feel that way, I just do.”
That earns him a big-jump-up-and-wrap-my-legs-around-his-waist hug. “Me too.” I reinforce my point with a quick round of tongue rugby. “Help me get into my armor?” I pull down the zipper to my flight suit. He grins.
The patrol departs at dusk. Night vision systems are of course the order of the day. The Combat Armor is outfitted with a tech level 13 NV system. My prototype PeteArmor has a system that is a bit more advanced; I took it from a scrap set of Advanced Strike Armor. It makes all night vision just as clear as plain sight and without mangling the spectrum. In layman’s terms, they can read the book title and maybe chapter headings, but I can read the copyright information. And admire the pictures in their original color.
Everyone is ready. We set out for the railroad tracks. It is a naturally cloudy night, about 98F and calm. There has been no communication from Night Searcher.
We head towards the track but keep it to one side as we approach the city, about fifty meters, but changing as terrain dictates. At no time will we walk on the track, unless it is absolutely unavoidable, and at that time, we will treat it as a danger area. I’m grateful that my prototype armor has a cooling system; the combat armor has a rudimentary system, but it’s more about venting heat than pushing coolant though. One hundred Fahrenheit is pretty warm to walk around dressed like a water heater. Sherri and Jonesy are experienced and tough. The others start whining after the first hundred meters. We take cooling breaks from time to time. Our progress isn’t as quick as I’d prefer, but we’re making it. For grins, I switch my sight system to “thermal.” They all light up like a herd of wills-o’-the-wisp.
After about an hour of patrolling, Shawna calls from the launch. “Sensors indicate a large moving vehicle heading in your direction—probably a train.” Sherri, Jones, and I take a knee. Avi and Reeber drop prone and douse their helmet-mounted lamps. We wait ten minutes before I see a train approaching from the south, going towards the city. As it passes, we count six passenger cars and two cars with some sort of enclosed turrets mounted on flat decks. As it retreats, I shoot a targeting laser at it. The train is moving at about 70 mph. I’ve no doubt they’ll get there before we do. Shouldn’t take them long to get out of sight either. Once they have, we resume movement towards the town. Ideally, we’ll be able to crouch just below the crest of a hill somewhere and look into the town unobserved.
And we do exactly that. There is a hill overlooking the edge of town. The city is small, but has what looks to be pretty modern facilities. No starport is in evidence. No surprise there.
“Have you seen enough of the uniforms to be able to guess between the officers and the enlisted?” I ask Sherri.
“Based on scarcity and apparent deference, the officers are the ones with the gold on the epaulets. The enlisted? If they wear insignia, it’s either non-descript or too small to read from any distance.”
“Okay, let’s make our way to the train station. Ideally, we’ll get an officer, but if not, we’ll get whomever fate drops in our laps. And that person doesn’t do us any good if he’s dead. Avi, do you have anything in your bag of tricks that will knock a person out for a few hours, or long enough for us to get them back to the boat?”
“Sherri has some accelerator darts for the rifles. I can load them up with a short term tranquilizer, but you’ll have to shoot someone who isn’t wearing armor.”
Sherri pipes up, “I have a pistol version also.”
“Can you make some for both?” I ask Avi.
He nods. Sherri hands him two packets of darts, one set larger than the other.
Sherri scopes the town. “No worries. I see our target. He and several others are just in uniforms, no body armor. It must be too hot for them, what a bunch of wimps.” Jones and I chuckle, but no one else does.
We move around the fringes as best we can, trying to stay in the woods and—failing that—in the shadows as much as possible. It takes four hours and numerous breaks, but we are finally about five hundred meters from the station. There must be a pretty big deployment happening. There are somewhere between two- and three-hundred soldiers milling about and getting on and off the train. Whatever we do, we need to do it quickly, because we’re running out of night.
Jonesy has an idea. “You guys hang here and do look-out. Sugar Britches and me will follow homeboy into the shitter and bag him. Sound good?”
I think about it. “Bold. Use the tranq as soon as you get a shot. I’m okay with capturing him, but I’d rather he not slip into Prisoner of War mode and start screaming as soon as he sees you.” We melt into the forest. Sherri and Jonesy come out of their armor, moving forward in coveralls and torso armor they had in their packs. Sherri has an accelerator pistol that can be readily concealed, if needed. Jones carries his assault rifle. They stay to the shadows and head down to the station.
On the platform, we see one man consulting a clipboard and then issuing directives to soldiers as they pass him. He has a bottle of something in his pocket, and he sips from it often. I hear squelch on the perCom break twice. Jonesy and Sherri are in position. Now we wait. Three more formations, and after dismissing the third, our guy walks toward the latrine. The rule in a hot climate is, if you aren’t peeing, you are dehydrated and should be drinking. This guy has been drinking. Sherri follows him in. Two very long minutes later, she emerges with him draped over her shoulder. She and Jones vanish back into the darkness of the forest.
Forty-five minutes later, they return. Jonesy carries the guy with a gag in his mouth over his shoulder. The captive’s hands are tied behind his back and his ankles are tied together. Both of them are literally dripping sweat. They both drink deeply from the hydration systems of their armor.
“Lucky the officer is a little twerp,” Jonesy pants. “But we’ll still have to take turns carrying him.” He is a little twerp by Trooper standards. I don’t have a tape, but I bet he’s about five and a half feet tall and maybe a hundred pounds. He’s an average-sized man by civilian standards but small for the military. I pat down his pockets. There’s next to nothing in them.
“I can give him another knock-out shot just to be sure, if you want,” Avi offers.
“I want. Dose him.” Avi gives him a shot of snoozy juice. “Good work, you two,” I say to Jonesy and Sherri. “Hand him here; I’ll take him the first leg. You two get back into your killing suits. Any collateral damage I need to know about? Not that it really matters, but did you get him going into the stall or coming out?”
“Coming out,” Sherri answers. “He didn’t have a chance to wash his hands though.”
Once Jonesy and Sherri are armored up, we head back to the cutter. I am truly amazed at my strength and enduran
ce in the Prototype Armor. I find myself stopping a few times and telling the others to “Get moving” or “Come on, a bit further.” They always reply with: “We’re hot and tired, gotta go slower,” I tell them to quit their bellyachin’, or I’m telling everyone the toughest member of the patrol is the engineer—the female engineer. At one break, I set the captive down. Sherri offers to carry him. “I’m fine,” I tell her. And it’s true. By the time we reach the launch, everyone is exhausted, except me. I’m tired, yes. It was a long walk, but I feel like I could do it again.
Sleepyhead is still out. Avi checks him and says he will probably have to be chemically awakened, mostly due to dehydration and fatigue. He starts an IV, pushing fluids in him. He also catheterizes him, muttering, “What goes in must come out.” Avi looks at me and says, “This is a field test of that hibernation drug you wanted. He is down for the count for at least four or five more hours.” I’m looking at my watch and our progress. Thirty minutes out from the cutter (estimated of course), I’ll tell Shawna to have everything spinning up and ready to go, because we have what we came for, and we are leaving. Everything at the launch is okay. The rest of the crew has collapsed base camp and stowed it in the cargo module. The recovery operations must have started when the patrol left. Shawna welcomes everyone back with a big smile and a thumb pointing to the passenger compartment.
I put Snoozy in a chair and check his bindings just in case he should awaken (weird things do happen). As soon as everyone is out of their armor and strapped in, we leave for Night Searcher.
When we’re free of the No-COM zone, I alert the ship we are inbound with one subject for telepathic interview. I explain my decision to Aria, as well as the reasoning that led to it.
17 BAINERA’AH III
In a matter of moments, Night Searcher appears on our viewers. Her small craft bay doors open, anticipating us. I see the decon team ready in the small craft bay to run everyone through the process. The Troopers standing off to one side will take the still sleeping ‘prisoner’ to the detention cells. I wonder if the decon shower will rouse him. We break into buddy teams to clean each other in the decon showers. Avi, as the medical professional, takes the prisoner. I see the gurney Avi ordered for our guest awaiting him. No sooner has Shawna announced the launch down and secure than I get a message from Aria. “Good job, Sonia. Your team is authorized two days down.”
