“But would they?” Orlova asked. “My government wouldn’t. Not under the circumstances. We’d firm up the frontier and try to put together a task force to send out, but with tensions that high along our mutual border, it might take a while to get a flotilla of sufficient strength ready. From what I know of United Nations Fleet deployments, you’d have the same problem.”
“Naturally, I can’t go into specifics, but on balance, I think you’re right,” Clarke admitted. “It could be months before we’re in a position to launch another expedition. I gather you don’t think that we have that sort of time.”
“I don’t,” Orlova replied. “That’s why we moved as quickly as we did. There’s a clear and present danger to the future of both of our governments out there, Colonel, and we’re the ones on the firing line right now.” She paused, then asked, “I presume I can count upon you not to launch an attack on our ship?”
“We won’t start a fight,” Clarke conceded. “If necessary, we’ll finish one, but as far as I’m concerned, I’ll agree to a ceasefire.” Cracking a smile, he added, “I’ll even keep my unreasonable requests to an absolute minimum, though there’s one I think we can both agree on.”
“I’m listening,” Orlova said.
“We’ve got to do something about the situation on the surface. That much is obvious. We’ve both lost contact with our respective ground forces, and there’s a strange alien artifact down there doing something. Our undersea sensors, before they went dark, reported a power build-up. I don’t like the implications of that, and I have a feeling you don’t either.”
Nodding, she said, “We need to send a team down to the surface.”
“Ordinarily, I wouldn’t want your people within a hundred miles of my installation...”
“I believe you made that clear in our last communication.”
“Given the circumstances,” he continued, “I don’t think we have a choice. Two shuttles. One squad from each ship, with a senior officer in command. Major Riley from our side, and I insist that he have tactical command for the operation. It’s our base, after all.”
“If there’s a firefight down there,” Orlova said, “my team will follow his orders. That’s as much as I can promise, and be honest, Colonel, it’s a damn sight more than you expected.”
Cracking a smile, he said, “Against my better instincts, Captain, I’m going to trust you. Right now I think that rescuing our people has to be a top priority.”
“One condition,” Harper said. “We share all information relating to that artifact. I want to see everything you already have, and we’ll give you our data from the submersible when it returns. On the basis that your craft has almost certainly been taken by the enemy, and I doubt you’ll get any data back from your dive.”
Riley frowned, and said, “Wait a minute. That’s highly classified information.”
Nodding, Clarke replied, “Which undoubtedly has primary relevance to our shared mission. I can see their point.” Turning back to Harper, he said, “I’ll agree in principle, once our teams have returned from the surface, and we can see just what you have to offer.” He looked at the agent, and said, “Because if we’re honest, you’re only asking because you don’t think that your team is coming back, either.”
“Sub-Lieutenant Salazar is an extremely resourceful officer,” Orlova said. “I’m confident that if there is any way to come back from that dive, he’ll find it. That’s why I chose him for the mission. He’s the best junior officer on my staff.”
“I wish I shared your confidence, Captain, but I will happily bow to your superior judgment in this matter. Given that time is at a premium, I suggest that we move as expeditiously as possible, and that we also involve as few of our people as possible. I don’t know about your ship, but trust is a precious commodity over here.” Glancing at his watch, he said, “Shall we agree to departure in forty minutes?”
“Agreed,” Orlova said.
“And who will you be placing in command? Lieutenant Harper?”
“Not a chance,” she replied with a smile. “Do you think I’m going to miss out on a chance to get my feet on the ground? I’m leading them in myself.”
Shaking her head, Harper said, “Mind if I come with you, skipper?”
“Why?”
“It’s just that I’d rather face the not-men than Lieutenant Nelyubov.”
Chapter 20
“We’re out of time,” Cooper said, looking down at the base. “We either go now, or not at all.” Turning to Moreau, he asked, “Are you ready?”
“Is it too late to go back to that snowballs idea you had?” she replied.
“Far too late,” he said with a smile. “Relax. This will work. Just keep me covered all the way down, and be ready to shoot over my shoulder when I crack that lock.”
Shaking her head, she replied, “You realize this is crazy, I hope? They’ll pick you up before you get ten feet.” She paused, then said, “Wait a minute. Check your surface temperature readings.”
“What about them?”
“The air temperature’s up twenty degrees in the last hour, and unless I’m missing something, the ice cap is thinning.” Turning to Cooper, she asked, “Could this be some sort of delayed reaction from the nuclear charge?”
“It wasn’t that big,” he replied. “You’d need a force a thousand times greater to have any effect on that scale. We don’t carry gigaton-yield bombs in our armory. I don’t think anyone’s ever made one.” He knelt down, pulling out a sensor feed and placing it by the ice, and said, “This is going to get very bad very fast. I think we might have to change our plan.”
“Suddenly I feel a little bit of hope seeping through. What have you got in mind?”
“The shuttles. Are you sure there isn’t any chance of hot-wiring them?”
“Not a hope. They took out all the computer control circuits. You might conceivably fire the engines without them, but you’d effectively have zero guidance. That’s not an option.”
A smile spread across his face, and he said, “As long as I can fire them, it’ll do. Next question. Those domes. Can they float?”
“Sure, they’re a standard model, and we’ve used them that way on Thalassa. As long as they’re at full air pressure…” She paused, took a step towards Cooper, and said, “Are you out of your god-damned mind?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Just maybe. Do you have a better suggestion?”
“No, but...”
“Cover me!” he yelled, sprinting along the ice. It was slipperier underfoot than before, new cracks appearing on the perimeter, close to the dome. Something he could use to make his plan succeed. Before, trying this would have been insane, doomed to failure, but with the surface growing increasingly unstable, the roar of a shuttle motor might just suffice to complete his mission.
The crack of a rifle echoed through the too-thin air, slamming into a figure leaving the airlock, another not-man wearing United Nations uniform. He grimaced, knowing that his people were trapped inside, hoping against hope that he could force their captors into flight, give them a chance at survival, no matter how remote.
Then, ahead of him, a figure stepped out of the shadows, a not-man using the holographic shield they had seen before, back on Tombstone. He ducked to the side an instant before a hail of bullets rained through the air ahead of him, tumbling to his feet and sliding towards his attacker, diving into his legs with sufficient force to send him crashing to the ground over him.
The not-man reached for him, trying to grab at his lifesystem, but Cooper’s hand found the concealed blade in his pocket, and in one quick, careful move, he slashed the suit open, following up with a swift kick that sent his foe tumbling to the side. Struggling to regain his feet, he staggered to the shuttle, his hand quickly working the controls to open the door.
If anything, the interior was worse than Moreau had warned, componen
ts tossed onto the floor, ripped from the control panels, much of the interior gutted. He raced to the cockpit, looking over the remaining controls, and worked what he hoped was the thruster control, firing one quick lateral burst. Any fine work would be out of the question, but all he had to do was rotate the ship, turn it to face the engine nacelle towards the dome.
He had to get the balance just right. Burn too long, and he risked collapsing the dome completely. Not long enough, and he might as well not bother at all. And all the time, the cracks and fissures in the ice continued to expand, the remaining sensor displays warning that the footing of the shuttle was increasingly uncertain. He reached for the throttle, and fired a quick pulse, then another one, sending his craft racing across the ice, a trail of melt-water behind him.
Then he span, before he could stop, one of the landing legs catching on something and sending them back the way they came, the shuttle continuing to race ahead, skidding over the ice, even as he pulled the throttle back as far as it could go. The engines died, but he continued to advance, now on a collision course with the dome. In panicked desperation, he fired the thrusters again, trying to dodge the outpost, but he couldn’t bring the nose around in time, and the shuttle careened into the fragile dome, tearing an angry gash down one side.
He reacted instantly, racing back to the airlock, not caring that the shuttle was continuing to slide through the ice, snatching as many rescue balls as he could from the wall panels as he returned to the airlock. He didn’t wait for it to complete depressurization before opening the outer hatch, the report tossing him clear of the ship as it drifted serenely on.
Racing towards the rapidly deflating dome, he saw a trio of not-men leaving the airlock, making for the other shuttle, each felled by a rapid series of shots from Moreau, the officer shaking her head as she saw Cooper running towards them. He stopped long enough to snatch a pistol from one of the bodies, United Nations standard issue, once again, and raced through the airlock, waiting impatiently for it to cycle, leveling the pistol at the door. Gurung was waiting on the other side, and he almost squeezed the trigger in instinct before lowering his pistol, a beaming smile on his face.
“Good God, Sergeant, I thought you were dead!”
“Likewise, sir, but that might still happen unless we can move. Something’s punctured the dome.” Gesturing at the rear, he said, “The rest of the not-men are dead. You already took out their warriors, and the technicians didn’t even put up much of a fight.”
“How many suits do you have?”
“Three.” Looking at the rescue balls, he said, “I guess we had the same idea.”
Tossing them to the ground, Cooper said, “Rhodes, Shigata, take suits. The rest of you, into the rescue balls and stay there. We’ll be safe as soon as I can contact Alamo.” Turning to Gurung again, he asked, “Any idea where the jamming equipment is?”
“Other side of the moon pool, sir.”
“The what?”
“This way,” the trooper said, leading Cooper through a door into a room almost filled with water, a hole carved in the ice with liquid now sloshing over the sides, steam on every surface. “It’s been getting hotter and hotter for the last hour. I’m not sure how much longer the dome would have stayed intact anyway.”
Cooper looked at the control panel, a tangle of equipment and cables, lights flashing on seemingly at random. He glanced at Gurung, who shrugged in response, then pulled a grenade from his pocket, tapping the control and tossing it at the panel, ducking to the floor before the blast ripped through the machinery, leaving it a tangled ruin.
“….calling Cooper. This is Shuttle Two to Cooper. Come in, please.”
“Captain?” he asked, instantly recognizing the voice on the other end of the line. “Cooper here, ma’am. We’ve secured the surface installation, but the condition on the ground is desperate. Request immediate evacuation.”
“Roger that, Cooper,” she replied. “We’ve got two shuttles of troops right behind us. If you need them…”
“Right now we just need fifteen seats out of here, ma’am. I don’t know how much longer the surface will remain stable. Something’s melting the ice throughout this entire region. Have you heard from Salazar?”
“Not since the submersible dropped,” she replied. “What about the UN contingent.”
“All dead, ma’am. Not us, the not-men. I found their bodies buried in the snow. Looks like they’ve been dead for a few hours.”
“That’s about what we figured,” Orlova replied. “Get out onto the surface. We’re on our way.”
“Roger that,” he said. “Cooper out.” Turning to the squad, he said, “You heard the Captain. Let’s go, on the double!” All but three of his men scrambled into the rescue balls, keeping them as small as possible to fit though the increasingly cramped airlock. He grabbed the leads, tugging them through, Gurung holding the override open to keep both hatches wide, the dome deflating as the atmosphere escaped into space.
Outside, the landscape was worse than he’d thought, the cracks becoming gaping fissures, terrain that had existed untouched for centuries vanishing almost in front of his eyes. Moreau ran over to him, then dashed inside, tossing her rifle at Gurung without a word. Cooper looked around, trying to spot the descending shuttle, unable to see it as the sky brightened to herald dawn, the stars fading into the morning light.
“We’re not going to be able to take off for much longer,” Gurung said. “And if that’s a standard shuttle, we’ll be damned lucky to make orbit with that many people on board.” Turning to Cooper, he said, “Some of us are going to have to stay behind.”
“I’ll stay, Sergeant. Someone can come down and pick me up later.” Underneath, he heard an earth-shattering crack, and stepped aside just as a new fissure opened, liquid water visible beneath. “What the hell is happening down there?”
“Only Salazar and Foster know that, sir, and I’m not sure they’re ever going to get the chance to tell us.” He frowned, then said, “We’re going to need more volunteers, and I’m not...”
Moreau emerged from the collapsed tent, a holdall in hand, and said, “Don’t be so damned stupid. You might have sent one of our shuttles heading out to the middle of nowhere, but there’s still another one, and they kept all the control components. I can have twelve of us up in the air in a matter of minutes.”
“Your party, Lieutenant,” Cooper said, “as well as nine of my men, and you’re going to Alamo, not Kolchak. Rhodes, you sit next to her, and make sure she picks the right ship to land on.”
“Will do, boss. All my stuff is over there, anyway.”
“Wait just a damned minute,” she said.
“We don’t have time! Get moving, damn it!” he yelled, and she reluctantly raced for the shuttle, the holdall swinging at her side. Cooper sped after her, dragging the rescue balls behind him, tossing them carefully into the cargo airlock before working the repress sequence, leaving the three suited Espatiers alone on the surface.
“Better stand back, boss,” Gurung said. “Might be a little careless on takeoff. I don’t think she likes us very much.”
“Noticed that, huh,” Cooper said with a smile, moving to the rear as the launch thrusters began to fire, the shuttle moving to hover over the terrain. He watched in satisfaction as the ship pivoted on its axis, the engines roaring as Moreau threw them to maximum, sending the bulk of his people safely away from the surface, a pool of melted water in her wake.
“Any sign of the Captain?” Gurung asked.
“She’ll be here, Sergeant. You can bet your life on that.”
“Funny, I think that’s precisely what we did,” he said with a smile. Cooper looked around the terrain, wincing as one of the hundred-foot towers of ice collapsed to the ground in a pile of shards, hurled slowly through the air in the low gravity.
“Hurry, Captain,” he muttered, too quietly for anyone else to hear.
“I don’t think any of us know how to swim.”
Chapter 21
“Nothing,” Salazar said, scanning the controls by the light of the datapad. “All the external feeds are out. All we’ve got is the raw image from the viewscreen, but without the searchlights, that doesn’t mean a thing.” Turning to Foster, he said, “The only thing I’m willing to be sure on is that this happened to our friends, but worse. We were ten thousand feet up, and whatever ran through that cable was enough to burn out half our equipment. I hate to think what would have happened if we were actually touching it.” He wiped sweat from his forehead, and added, “Getting hot, as well.”
“Temperature’s up five degrees in the last hour,” Foster replied, shaking her head. “It ought to be getting colder, not hotter. Must have something to do with that thing down on the surface. It seems impossible, but that’s all I can think of.” She paused, then added, “I know something, though. If it gets much hotter, we’re not going to have to worry about cracking a hole in the ice. It’ll melt. I’d guess it’s already thinner than it was.”
“How much thinner?” he asked.
“Impossible to calculate,” she replied. “Not without proper sensor data, information about the ocean around us, a degree in thermodynamics that neither of us has.” With a smile, she added, “I thought this was going to be an adventure, but I’d expected a little more visual stimuli.”
“What, you don’t think an endless void interesting to look at?” he quipped. “I know what you mean.” Reaching for the controls, he said, “I’ve still got control of the ballast. Let me try something.” He pulled a switch, and the submersible tipped forward, and he added, “I’m shifting from the forward tanks to the rear.”
“Clever,” Foster said, as the nose dropped down. “A little stomach-churning, but clever.” She peered into the darkness, and continued, “Pavel, there’s something there.”
As the submersible tipped to the vertical, tugging them forward in their seats, they saw the familiar geometric shape below, now white hot, the water bubbling all around them, slowly boiling as the heat intensified. Neither could discern any feature marring the surface, but as hot as it was, it should be near-molten by the stage. Instead, it was keeping its shape, smooth and clean, slowing heating the ocean surrounding it.
Battlecruiser Alamo_Depth Charge Page 16
