Jason thought about it and the inevitable problem resulting from doing that … little people getting in the way—getting stepped on.
Dira leaned in close and he felt her breath on his ear. “Perhaps if they stay within one cubicle area,” Dira suggested, “we could open things up for them, get rid of the enclosures.”
Jason didn’t much like that idea, but a concession was needed, and that was a possible alternative. “Fine, we’ll go ahead and release you all from your enclosures, but you’ll be required to stay in one section of the ship only. Would that be acceptable?”
Tadd considered this for a moment and eventually said, “Yes, that would be acceptable. But we’ll want that concession made first … only then will we talk about this mission of yours.”
* * *
The next order of business was getting the Rallm temporarily situated into their new environment. The Streamline’s onboard replicator took care of meal preparation for the Rallm. Dira prepared the tiny portions and distributed them on small, pre-cut pieces of paper. With the storage cubicle cleared out, the Rallm went to work setting up what was, in essence, a camp-like habitat. This immediately brought up new challenges. Previously, bathroom necessities took place inside each enclosure and were handled in the most rudimentary fashion. Basically, a corner was selected to piss and crap in with the hope their Craing captors would get around to cleaning up their mess every few days. Bathing wasn’t even an offered option, although most used their water bowls once or twice a week to keep themselves at least partially clean. Dira suggested one of the two onboard lavatories, the one right next door to the Rallm cubicle, be exclusively available for the small humans. Dira worked with Tadd to provide ramps and to fashion makeshift toilet seats over the toilet; for showering, they would keep a trickle of warm water running in the sink. Not a perfect setup by any means, but the newly dedicated bathroom was welcomed with exuberance by each of the small humans.
* * *
Jason was seated next to Grimes in the cockpit when Dira crouched down between them. To his surprise, when she opened her hand, Tadd was standing on her palm. “You’ve kept your end of the bargain, Captain. Thank you.” Noticing Grimes in the pilot’s seat, he seemed momentarily to lose his concentration, then he looked back to Jason. “Tell me about this plan of yours. How we can help you fight the Craing.”
“Let me bring you up to speed on the situation at hand. Due to the recent Allied attacks on Craing military and their government installations nearby on Terplin, as well as on other Craing worlds, their infrastructure has been seriously disrupted. Disrupted, but not destroyed. The Craing’s true power lies in their far-reaching military apparatus. In space, the Craing dominate the known universe. As part of a new Craing initiative called the Great Space, they will further protect and isolate themselves. It’s already begun, and they are systematically destroying any and all star systems in any sector that could potentially pose a threat to them, either now or in the future. My own planet, Earth, has been the focus of several recent attacks and, as we speak, five thousand Craing warships are closing in to annihilate my home world.”
Tadd said, “We are well aware of the Craing … we have been since even before we were abducted. I’m sorry to hear about Earth.”
Jason continued, gesturing toward the holo-display, “What you’re looking at is the suspected secret hideout of the newly-appointed Craing emperor, Ot-Mul. We suspect the Craing Empire’s government and military headquarters have been re-established there. Once a large religious compound, it was used exclusively by Craing high priest overlords. As you can see, our sensors cannot penetrate the area here, where we know there are sprawling city structures as well as their Grand Sacellum. As we zoom in, you can see there’s a latticework dome, miles in circumference, which exercises some kind of advanced signal-blocking technology. As long as that dome is activated, we’re blind to what’s inside it and unable to lock on to anything tangible. Phase-shifting, how we transport ourselves, would be impossible.”
“So, basically, you need to infiltrate the domed area and our unique size could help you achieve that,” said Tadd.
Jason knew it wasn’t that simple—what he was asking, especially after what the Rallm had already endured, was huge and could very well be a suicide mission for them. He began having second thoughts and considered scrapping the idea in its entirety.
Tadd must have seen the indecision on Jason’s face. “For centuries, we’ve narrowly avoided the Craing and their overt hostilities. If what you’re saying about the Great Space plan is true, then certainly the Rallm’s days are numbered as well.”
“You need to understand this could be very dangerous. Truth is … we don’t know what you’ll encounter down there.”
“Why don’t you tell me exactly what it is you need us to accomplish?” Tadd asked.
“If all goes according to plan, it shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. You and your team will infiltrate the dome at one of its delivery depot entrances. You’ll be transporting what is called a SuitPac device. Once you’ve gotten yourselves far enough into the complex, you’ll activate the device. After that, we’ll have the necessary, actual, coordinates we can lock on to. In seconds the rest of us will phase-shift in.”
Tadd mulled that over for several beats and said, “If you’re confident you can get us onto that conveyor belt undetected, it sounds acceptable. Can you show me what one of the SuitPac devices looks like?”
Jason removed the two by three inch device hanging from his belt and held it out.
Tadd looked concerned. “To you that thing is small and insignificant. To us, it’s pretty big and probably too heavy for us to carry individually.” He continued to examine the SuitPac. “Get one we can work with and I’ll put a team together. We’ll go from there.”
Chapter 42
Nan heard the blare of a horn and felt the big dump truck slow before coming to a complete stop. “I should check on Gus; see what’s going on down there.” She put a hand on Reese’s shoulder. “You going to be okay up here for a while longer?”
His eyes moved to the two bodies lying motionless at the back of the truck bed, then over to the four healthy women sitting together on the couch. “Sure. Turns out our passengers are an entertaining lot. We all get along pretty well. Just tell Gus to keep away from tall trees and, for God’s sake, warn us first if he’s going to start running over cars again.”
“Will do.” Nan gave a quick wave to the ladies and headed toward the front of the truck. She climbed the robe ladder, as she’d done numerous times before, and as she crested the bed’s overhang she saw a welcome sight. To her left was a small square guard station and, farther up the road, the tunnel entrance to Cheyenne Mountain—the NORAD and USNORTHCOM Alternate Command Center.
Nan climbed down to the deck, opened the cab door, and scooted in close to Mollie.
“So where is everybody, Gus?”
“Not sure. This guard station is supposed to be manned 24/7. Other than a shitload of dead molt weevil carcasses strewn about, place seems pretty deserted.”
“Maybe try the horn again,” Mollie suggested, quickly covering her ears.
Gus honked the horn several more times and waited for something, anything, to happen.
Nan leaned forward, squinting her eyes. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing toward the guard station. “Looks like there’s a note taped to the door.”
One of the drones was coming around the front of the truck. Nan opened the door and yelled out, “Teardrop … can you bring me back that note?”
Teardrop moved over to the guard station and hovered in front of the door for several seconds. When it returned it held the torn-off note in one of its outstretched, articulating claws. Nan took the handwritten note.
“What does it say, Mom?”
“It’s addressed to me. Says that because of the molt weevil attacks, they had to abandon the guard station. We’re to proceed up the road to the entrance and they’ll let us in. I’m
guessing there’s a video camera,” Nan said, adding a shrug.
Gus put the truck in gear and got the big Caterpillar 797F powering forward up the hill toward the arched entrance at the face of the mountain. He brought the vehicle right up to the entrance and killed the engine. “Entrance is too tight for us to drive into … we’ll have to hoof it in the rest of the way.”
Nan looked straight ahead through the windshield into what seemed a dark and unwelcoming tunnel. She was relieved to see Teardrop and Dewdrop proceed forward on their own volition. “Sitting here won’t accomplish anything,” she said. The three of them moved out of the cab and stood on the deck.
On the pavement below were hundreds of dead molt weevils.
“Looks like there was quite a fight here. And there’s something else …” Gus said, walking to the far end of the deck and looking back around the truck’s other side.
“What’s that?” Nan asked.
“Look around here. See anything moving?”
“There aren’t any molt weevils trying to climb up the sides of the truck, like usual, Mom,” Mollie said.
“Yeah, that’s all well and good, but I’m not going anywhere near that dark tunnel until I’m sure the coast is clear.”
“Me neither,” Mollie seconded, making an exaggerated, wide-eyed expression.
Both drones emerged from the tunnel. Dewdrop rose up and hovered several feet directly in front of the deck.
“What did you find in there? Are you picking up any life signs of the military personnel that run this place?”
“Nan Reynolds, there are no other human life signs within the proximity of this facility,” Dewdrop said, completely void of emotion.
“I don’t understand. This was supposed to be the most secure location on the planet. What the hell happened?”
Both drones said nothing.
Reese stood up, now standing on the overhang behind them. He held the shotgun casually pointing toward the sky. “Ask them if they detect more of those creatures hiding in there? I think that would explain it.”
Teardrop said, “There are no living molt weevils within this facility.”
Gus and Nan glanced at each other—obviously taken aback by that answer.
“You’re saying the molt weevils … specifically those here in this tunnel, are dead?” Nan reiterated.
“All the molt weevils on this planet are now deceased,” Teardrop said.
Mollie clapped her hands together. “Good! I hated every one of them.”
“Wait, how is that even possible? How could … probably many millions of molt weevils suddenly die off. Just like that? I don’t get it.”
Neither drone responded.
Nan looked back over her shoulder. “Stay here with our passengers, Reese. We’ll go take a look.”
“Um, ma’am … I’d feel a lot more comfortable if you stayed close, where I can protect you,” Reese said nervously.
“The drones say it’s safe … I think you can take that to the bank. Gus and both drones are armed. Keep an eye on our women friends up there … make sure no one comes near the truck.”
“I’m coming with you, Mom,” Molly said.
Gus was the first to climb down the stairs, using the attached rope to keep his balance on the slippery steps. Once he was on the ground, Mollie, and then Nan, followed.
“Hold up!” Reese said from above them. He’d tied off a small satchel and lowered it down with another rope. “Here’s radios, flashlights, and a few other things you might find useful.”
Mollie ran to the satchel, untied it, and started to rifle through the contents.
“Just bring it back here, Mollie,” Nan ordered.
Mollie did as she was asked, handing the bag over to her mother. Nan gave a wave to Reese and distributed the contents between the three of them.
“Radio check,” came Reese’s voice from the radio.
Mollie was the first to answer: “Read you loud and clear.”
Gus ejected the magazine on his handgun, checked it, and reinserted it. “Let’s go.”
The three proceeded deeper into the tunnel, with Mollie the first to turn on her flashlight.
“So not only is this place deserted, the electricity is out?” Nan asked, looking over to Gus.
“The facility has its own power station; everything here is self-contained … doesn’t make any sense,” Gus answered.
“Mom …”
“I see them, sweetie.” Nan had her own flashlight clicked on and was sweeping its beam from left to right as they walked. Cocoons. Neatly stacked like cords of wood.
Mollie scurried in closer to her mother. “Maybe I should have stayed with the truck.”
There was something big and white up ahead. As they got closer it became more evident what was there.
“I’ve read about this,” Gus said. “We’ll pass through three of these big blast doors before we reach the NORAD Alternate Command Center.”
Both Nan and Mollie looked at Gus and then at the ten-foot-high metal door.
“Three feet thick and solid steel,” Gus added.
“Probably doesn’t do a whole lot of good if it’s left open like that,” Nan said.
First the drones, followed by the three humans, stepped through the partially open door. On the other side the road continued on, until it was swallowed up in absolute darkness beyond.
Nan was wondering if they should even keep going. She felt Mollie reach for her hand and grasped it tight.
Mollie spoke in a near whisper: “There’s even more of them now, Mom.” Her flashlight beam illuminated what was on their right side.
She was right. Cocooned bodies were stacked all the way up to the rocky ceiling, some twenty feet above. “Let’s just ignore them, okay?” Nan said, pulling Mollie in closer as they walked.
Dewdrop, in the lead, was now less than ten feet in front of Gus. Teardrop was the same distance behind Nan and Mollie. They continued on for another mile before they spotted the second blast door ahead. Five minutes later they could see that this one too had been left partially open. Passing through the opening Nan saw the fleshy remnants of a dead molt weevil up above—perhaps cut in half as the door was closing. She was glad Mollie hadn’t noticed it.
Immediately after passing through the second door, Nan felt, more than heard, something. The drones were acting strange as well, and when they stopped and began to slowly encircle them, she knew they had gone into protection mode.
“What’s happening?” Mollie asked.
With a series of clicks, Gus chambered a round.
Flashlight beams swept both sides of the road. Nan looked at the ever-present stacks of cocoons. Something isn’t right. She heard Mollie take in a shortened breath. “What is it?” Nan asked.
“Look!”
“I don’t see it … what do you see, Mollie?”
“Right there! On the ground.”
Nan moved the beam of her own flashlight to the pavement at the side of the road. “It’s just more of the cocoon material … wrappings.”
Gus’s baritone echoed off the rock walls: “Well, that’s the problem. Looks like quite a few of these cocoon things have been unraveled.”
Nan played her flashlight over the green stacks and saw what Gus was referring to. Easily half of the cocoon wrappings were misshapen, split open, and empty.
Chapter 43
“Let me do it.”
Jason hadn’t noticed that Gaddy had wedged herself forward and joined the conversation. Too many people were huddled behind the cockpit—he missed The Lilly. Before he could respond, she continued: “I’m small and I’m fast. You send a clumsy, big human down there and he’ll be noticed … stick out like a rhino-warrior … the whole plan will turn to shit.”
Billy, standing in his battle suit and poised to go, shrugged. “Maybe she’s right. In this particular instance, a smaller sized-person is probably better.”
Gaddy shook her head, looking bewildered: “What’s the big deal? It’s s
ixty seconds; I’ll get in and get out.”
Jason turned back to the holo-display and the close-up view of one of the delivery depot posts outside the dome. They’d waited for nightfall and deliveries to slow down. Although there were small cargo vehicles still pulling up every few minutes, it seemed safe enough to phase-shift in and out without being noticed.
“You’re comfortable using the suit … setting phase-shift coordinates?”
Gaddy made a face that conveyed it was a stupid question.
“I will pre-set the coordinates for you,” Ricket volunteered.
“No … I’ll do that myself, thank you,” Gaddy replied irritably.
“All right … fine, then,” Jason said.
Gaddy smiled and darted toward the rear of the ship.
“You know this is a half-baked Hail Mary of an idea, don’t you? Maybe we should get our asses back to Earth,” Billy said, searching first one and then a second battle suit pocket for what, Jason guessed, was a cigar.
“How many worlds, billions of people, in this sector alone are being atomized even while we stand here? So, no,” Jason told him. “I want Ot-Mul: He’s the key to bringing the Craing’s systematic sector annihilations to an end.”
* * *
Jason hadn’t seen the Rallm’s cubicle encampment for several hours and was surprised to see how it had been transformed. What he assumed were things primarily made of paper—tents and other structures—now filled the cubicle’s open space. He saw Dira crouched in the far corner using a pair of scissors, cutting out a pattern on a sheet of paper. She continued to work without looking up, and said, “It’s actually kinda fun. Like making little dollhouses.”
Tadd and three other Rallm men were standing below Jason’s left foot. He could so easily have stepped on them accidentally. Jason knelt down and took a closer look at what they had come up with. Two of the men wore what looked like harnesses made from fabric. More strips of fabric tied together, like ropes, were tethered to the SuitPac.
The Great Space (Scrapyard Ship Book 6) Page 22
