by Darrell Bain
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Five
"Joyce, it just about has to be this way. You and I can't sleep openly with each other. It would set a bad example and hurt discipline.” Brackett folded his hands nervously, dropped them to his side, and clasped them behind his back as he stood up and began to pace in such room as was available in his cabin. It limited him to three steps forward and three back.
"Marlin, please sit back down,” Joyce said after watching him a moment.
He stopped and looked at her, shrugged, and took the seat behind his desk in order to keep some distance between them.
"That won't help,” she said, smiling crookedly. “I can still see you."
"But you can't touch me. Joyce ... oh, hell. When this started, it was perfectly all right. Now it isn't. What else can I say?"
"You could tell me ... no. Never mind. You're right, but that still doesn't make me like it. And two years is a hell of a long time."
"It's only until we get back home, but yeah. Long time to do without. How about we table it for now and see how the crew shapes up under the conditions we have? It could be we could manage something in the future, but don't you agree that we shouldn't be that close right now?"
"Don't try softening it. If—when—we get back, we probably won't be assigned to the same ship again, so we won't be able to pick back up where we left off, and you know it. However, I agree with you—for now. How about we give it six months and see where we are? It's possible the attraction won't seem quite so important after awhile."
"Suits,” he agreed, too quickly, he thought. “And I'm sorry, damn it,” he said.
"I am, too.” She stood up. “And I've been in here alone with you too long as is. You're a good man, Marlin. The crew is lucky to have you. If anyone can get us back home, you can.” She looked wistfully at him for a moment, then abruptly turned and left his cabin.
Brackett sat at his desk staring into space for a long time. Finally he sighed and stood up. He left his cabin and went directly to the control room while trying to put his normally placid expression back on his face. And that's one more decision out of the way, he thought sadly. The first of many I'll have to make that I won't like, before this is over. Just like it's up to me now instead of Beauchamp, when we come out of hyper near the star we're heading for in such a hurry. He hoped it would have a good planet orbiting it. It would be nice to get the long journey off to a good start.
* * * *
Lisa Trammell sat brushing her bright red hair in her cabin. She almost regretted having accepted the promotion to executive officer of Hurricane Jack now. If they managed to get back home—something she had her doubts about—it would look good on her resume. Executive officer on the longest interstellar journey ever made by a longboat would be enough to get her a command of her own. It only compounded the problem she faced now, though. She missed John. They hadn't been in love, but she had liked him well enough to spend a good deal of off-duty time in his cabin back aboard Sam Johnston. She understood herself well enough to know that his memory would fade and that she would begin thinking of other men—in a longboat where every single one of them were off limits.
It wasn't in her nature to go a long time without sex. Not that she thought of herself as promiscuous, but neither did she like to sleep alone. Just the thought of an empty bed for two or three years was more depressing than she'd ever imagined. Having put away the brush and dabbed her fingers to her tongue, she rubbed at the spray of freckles running across the bridge of her nose and speckling her cheeks. They obstinately refused to vanish.
She stuck out her tongue at her reflection. Time to go and see Justin Lake, Commander of the explorers, and tell him the Skipper had approved his recommendation. He wanted the Coyote Squad for the first excursion, if a fit planet was found when they came out of hyperspace. She agreed with him. The Coyotes were the best of the three squads, and Gary Cantrell, their leader, was an impressive officer. She and Justin both wanted them to set the standard for all the subsequent landings they would face.
She left her cabin and climbed the ladder to Mideck while holding to the hand rails as safety regulations prescribed. Her cabin was in officers’ country, so she had to take only a few steps to the dayroom, where she found Justin and Shirley Muser, his assistant commander. She was impressive, too, with her emerald-green eyes set in a dark-skinned face of mixed ancestry. They were dressed identically in cammies, but Justin wore the three pips of an explorer commander on his collar while Shirley sported the two of an assistant.
She drew a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with them.
"Hello, Lisa,” Justin greeted her informally, since neither of them was officially on duty.
"Hi, Justin, hello, Shirley. Any last thoughts on the Coyotes?"
"No, they're good to go. All I need to do is tell Cantrell and Dugan to pick the first team. Has the Old Man given the okay?"
"Yup. He has. You can tell the squad to get ready and put the first team on alert, as soon as you have their names."
"Good deal. When do we land?"
Lisa grinned and shook her head. “Damn it, Justin, you know I can't tell you that. We drop from hyper in about six hours, but when and if we land depends on what we find. If anything. You do realize we left in sort of a hurry, don't you?"
"Umm. Yeah. And I guess you don't have any charts to guide you this far from home, do you?” His strong Caucasian features were the reddish blond of Nordic ancestors, and his physique could well have derived from a Viking warrior.
"You mean whether we can expect planets or not? Sorry, no. Oh, astronomers usually do know if a system has planets or not. They've been looking for two centuries or more with various techniques and have mapped a lot of the stars in the Orion arm, but not even close to all, by any means. And very few have been checked for what sort of planetary system they might have, if any. Too many stars, not enough telescopes of the kind that do survey work. Unfortunately, we don't have that data in the boat, either. And I guess you know that since we didn't get the astronomy download from Johnston in time, we'll also have to do a lot more calculations for each jump."
"You're full of good news."
"I agree. It would have saved a lot of time and trouble if we had, but wishes won't change reality."
"Unfortunately,” Shirley Muser said.
Lisa smiled at her. She liked the assistant explorer commander. She was very quiet but knew her job well.
Justin looked pensive for a moment. “I wonder if anything like this has happened before."
"Could be,” Lisa said. “Lots of ships have gone missing for no good reason, but I've never heard of a longboat trying anything like what we're doing. Sometimes I think we should go slower with our expansion, so we'd have a military ship near enough to try finding out the reason when ships don't come back."
"That's not going to happen soon,” Justin said. “There's too much pressure back home to open new planets for settlement. We're barely staying ahead of the pioneering wave as is."
"Which is why we're way out here. The Union wants to appropriate some good territory in advance, I think."
"Why?” Shirley asked.
"Hmm? Oh, any number of reasons. There's no impetus to build a strong space fleet right now, but someone's been thinking ahead. They want to have a number of systems lined up in advance that would make good outposts for the military when the time comes, if it does. And far enough out to provide a trip line if the Union is ever attacked."
"What for?"
"For time to get some defenses in order when we finally meet another species that wants the same type of real estate we do. Like the Monkeyclaws, for instance, although I don't think they're after territory so much as extermination."
"She's right, Shirley,” Justin said. “Some of my family is part of the opposition back home. They don't have a lot of funding right now, but what they do have, they're using wisely. Good thing, too. Those damn Monkyclaws may be xenophobes, but there's no
thing wrong with their technology. Which means we'd better hope we make it back home and give them warning."
"And not be followed,” Lisa added.
"How could they follow us in hyperspace?"
She shrugged. “I don't know. And I hope they can't, but that doesn't mean much. If the history of science means anything, then once we visualize something, sooner or later some bright young geniuses will find a way to do it."
* * * *
"An auspicious start,” Commander Brackett said as Lisa focused in on the planet chosen for replenishing supplies and letting the crew out of the ship for a time. It had an atmosphere similar to earth, indicative of the existence of both flora and fauna or something that functioned as such, and an abundance of lakes and small oceans. Water in the form of either ice or liquid would do for reactor mass, but liquids were much easier to work with during the process of topping off the tanks. Liquid water also gave the crew a chance to bathe thoroughly rather than use cleaning cloths. Water also didn't take up as much time as ice, since it didn't have to be melted first. Of course there was no way yet of knowing whether the air was breathable or whether the life forms were inimical or not, but the planet did look good.
"No sign of advanced technology either, is there, Rayne?” Whistler said to the operations officer.
"Nothing I'm picking up, anyway,” Lieutenant Medford said. As Operations Officer of the boat she usually handled communications, and she was scanning every wave length that a technical-minded species might use for sending messages. She was also looking for any of the byproducts of machinery functioning in some manner, such as particles from power plants.
"Pick us a spot, XO,” Brackett ordered. “A lake would be good, if you can find a spot by one to that looks defensible."
Lisa scanned the terrain while the longboat drifted in antigravity mode. Presently she focused in on a good-sized lake with a perceptible shoreline backed by a number of sparsely vegetated hillocks that blended into more luxuriant growth farther away. She dropped an icon over a spot.
"This looks good, Skipper."
"Take us down COB,” Brackett said. “When you land, orient the boat for a quick departure if necessary."
"Aye, aye, sir,” Shinzyki said. He sat in the acceleration chair next to the commander's, his big hands playing a delicate, barely audible tune with the controls. A very discerning ear might judge progress, altitude and orientation of the boat from the melodious refrain as he eased it toward the lake with a gentle touch on the thrusters combined with a gradual lessening of gravity. Five minutes later, the boat touched down on its landing jacks with a barely discernible bump. All four landing lights blinked green.
"Hurricane Jack is down, sir. Thrusters off. Planetary gravity."
"Very good, COB. XO, tell the landing party it's their show now. COB, detail a working party to handle the probes and filters for the water. Mister Lake tells me the Tigers are the work detail, this stop, and Dragons in reserve. Let's get our tanks topped off as soon as the Coyotes tell us it's safe."
"Aye, aye, sir,” Shinzyki said. He started from the control room.
"XO, go with the Chief, and as soon as he's gotten the first working party ready to go, have him line up another detail to get the compressors on line to feed the recyclers with organics if the Coyotes tell us it's compatible. If they give it a downcheck, have Mister Cantrell and Chief Dugan report to me."
"Yes, sir. On my way."
Brackett followed her trim form with his gaze as she departed behind Shinzyki. She was probably the best looking woman on the boat, assuming that a man liked redheads with freckles, which he definitely did. But blondes were fine, too. He gave himself a mental rebuke and turned from her departing form to the view window. It really was a good-looking planet. The large lake had a few ripples on it from a light breeze, but that was the only movement. There was no tide. He thought the beach must have been formed by seasonal winds or some other natural phenomena. From the beach, a relatively clear area was covered with a thin, red-green scrub interspersed with other knobby mounds of growth. Heavier and taller vegetation began a hundred meters or so from the lake. There were no mobile life forms in view. For a little while, he simply sat and enjoyed the view, much as he always did after being in space for a time. He wanted to go out, but he felt that his duty compelled him to stay inside until the surface was declared safe.
As he watched, the first of the Coyote squad made their appearance, walking cautiously forward from the bow of the boat with rifles at port arms. Several of them spread out to form a protective perimeter while two others began their analytical work. There wasn't much anyone else could do until that task was finished.
* * * *
Despite having been with his squad on a number of landings, Jeremy was still excited. A likely looking planet had been found when they transited from hyperspace, and the Coyotes would be out for the first time under the new regime. He already felt a subtle difference between this and other landings. The squad members were edgy but absorbed, concentrating on getting it right, just as he was. Too much depended on them now. There was no backup: no other longboat to pick up if they failed, no big starship hovering in the system for security.
He felt loose and easy, unlike some others. The coyote squad had all occupied the remaining acceleration seats rather than being jammed in a cargo hold en mass and secured with wide spanning tractor fields, but it was their right, since they needed to be fresh when they ventured outside after the landing. As it happened, the atmosphere was placid and there had been little jostling as they settled down through it on what felt like a combination of thrusters and anti-grav.
The weapons team went out first, of course. They always did. Like him, they wore environmental suits, even though the first air samplings from the boat's probes indicated that the air was harmless. Nevertheless, it had to be tested in more detail before they could doff their suits, and part of that was his job. He and Ivana Prosky were responsible for running air, bio and soil samples through different instruments. They had worked together before, and he liked the little Russian. Her pretty face and petite body made her look delicate, but that was only an appearance. She was as tough as they came and very competent. She was on her second cruise, despite being the same rank as he. It made him wonder if she had messed up somehow, but it seemed unlikely. Perhaps she had gotten on the bad side of a superior.
There were any number of reasons the air might be bad and the organic material incompatible. He knew from his study of horrible examples that all the things that might prove fatal hadn't been encountered yet and probably never would. There were always traps waiting for the unwary or the careless. Ivana began running air samples through particle counters, checking and probing for toxic gases in quantities the boat probes might not have detected. He unfolded a camp table and set up his little array of instruments and chemicals. Within minutes, he began working on soil and what looked like, and probably was, vegetable matter. Only after he had all the processors and analyses going did he take time to look around. He hadn't bothered to check on the defenses before getting started. He knew the fire teams were already in position, armed and ready for any eventuality.
Siegfrer, Buford Russell, the tall rawboned man from England, and Chiquita Luna made up the fire team to the right of where the boat was backed up to the lake. Good-looking and fair-haired Johnny Lann, Lanford N'kuma the African, and Willy “Whitey” Whiteside were on the left. The center position was where the heavy weapons team was set up, led by Casey Dugan on the heavy plasma gun. She looked too small to man it, but only to anyone who hadn't seen her on a firing range. Danny Pronghorn and Franika Bzinski had dug in their light plasma guns on each side of her, where they could cover to the front and also lend their support to either side if needed. Others of the Coyote squad were in a smaller half-circle nearer the boat, ready to bypass the fire teams and range into the tall thick growth in the near distance should Mister Cantrell or Lake or even the Skipper decide it was needful. He was sure t
hey were waiting on him to tell them when they could come out of their breathing masks. Permission had already been granted to doff the environmental suits.
He could see nearby hills and a mountain range behind them, blue with distance. It reminded him of the Ozarks on Earth or portions of the Appalachian Mountains of eastern North America. It brought on a nostalgic feeling for home, owing to his having been born in the old province of Kentucky. It had never seemed so far away as now.
The protein analyzer dinged. He entered the readings in his Reader and nodded with satisfaction. Good, but he needed a larger specimen than any he'd found by grubbing in the dirt. He thumbed his speaker and used his forefinger to drop a circle over Casey's icon on his Reader.
"What is it, Costa?"
"I'm good so far, but I'm ready for something bigger, Chief."
"Already?"
"Yes, Chief. This place is shaping up to be a great colony world."
"Don't get in such a hurry, young man. Remember Tonka?"
Jeremy felt his embarrassment. Tonka was a prime example of how a survey could turn from delightfully benign to a horrifying hell in the time it took to turn around. A whole squad had been infected by a rapacious fungus-like organism on Tonka, minutes after they doffed their environmental masks. They died quickly, and half of a second squad were lost before new nannites could be worked up and fabricated.
"Got it, Chief. I still need something bigger than a bug, though."
