The Ruins of Karzelek (The Mandrake Company series Book 4)

by Lionsdrake, Ruby

  “Ha ha.”

  “Commander Thatcher,” Sedge started, intending to ask him to try to find the source of some of those disks.

  But Thatcher spoke first. “I believe I’ve traced the route of several of the weapons. They originally shot out of the ceiling, but now they’re on a course designed to provide a continuous fence around the platform. They’re either using amazingly compact and powerful batteries, or they’re employing some kind of perpetual motion technology. I would love to analyze one of those disks up close.”

  “Would you? I think we can arrange that,” Sedge said dryly. “From what I saw, it just looked like a metal disk. Kind of like a circular saw blade.”

  “Fascinating.”

  Kalish was looking at the view screen, and she drummed her fingers on the console. “They’re not actually flying that closely together. The cavern is huge, and they’re spaced out to cover all of the entrance routes to the platform, it seems. I wonder if there’s a pattern that we could figure out. The aliens were supposed to be fond of patterns, usually mathematically based. I’ve encountered a few of their booby traps before. Last time I was fortunate enough to have an astrophysicist with me. He discovered that the trap had been programmed based on... oh, what was it? The Fibonacci sequence. He was quite delighted to find proof that the aliens employed some of the same mathematics that have been a part of humanity’s understanding of the universe for so long.”

  “Too bad we didn’t bring an astrophysicist,” Tia said.

  “Really.” Thatcher sniffed.

  Sedge smiled at the offended tone. “Thatcher is our ship’s genius. I’ll wager he can solve any math problem that might be involved.”

  “A mercenary genius?” Tia asked skeptically.

  “I’ll send you my cryptography analyzer program, sir,” Sedge said. “There are hundreds of pattern sniffers on there. It would be an easy enough matter to feed some video of the disks into it and get an analysis.”

  “I will let you work with the program, Thomlin,” Thatcher said, his tone still a touch offended. Or perhaps the word was haughty. “I will attempt to solve this problem by hand.”

  “Oh?” Sedge took out his tablet. “Shall we see who can find the pattern first?”

  “Watch out, Sniffles,” Striker said. “Thatcher just took out a pad of paper and a pencil. You’re in trouble.”

  “Challenge accepted,” Thatcher said.

  Sedge murmured a few commands into his tablet, brought up the display for the program as well as the keyboard so he could type. If the pattern was not too complex, Thatcher would have the advantage, since it would take a while for Sedge to enter the data and modify the sniffer. But if he wasn’t trying to break a code, the process to simply identify the pattern shouldn’t be too taxing.

  He caught Kalish watching his hands blur over the holo-keys and hoped she wasn’t thinking that those were the fingers that had hacked into her communications files.

  “It’s nothing to do with Fibonacci,” Thatcher said after a few minutes. “Unless... let me try the prime-free sequence.”

  Kalish leaned over Tia’s shoulder and murmured something. A moment later, Tia fired a laser. The beam lanced through the dark cavern, not hitting anything until it blasted into the far wall. She tried a couple more times, attempting to strike one of the disks, Sedge assumed.

  “Gregor already tried shooting a couple,” Val said. “He actually hit them, but they have some shielding or inborn protection. The laser didn’t even knock it off its path.”

  Kalish jogged off the bridge and returned a moment later with a toolbox. She pulled open a panel under the controls and crawled into a tight space between the two seats. She grabbed a canister and a couple of tools from the box. Though Sedge wanted to beat Thatcher to figuring out the pattern, he couldn’t help but glance over, curious as to what she was doing.

  A moment later, she knelt back. “Try now, Tia.”

  “It’s hard to hit them. Every time they zip through, they’re on a different line.”

  “I know. Here, watch the sensors instead of simply waiting for them to come into visual sight.”

  The lasers fired a few more times. Then Tia emitted an excited, “Hah, got it.” Her face fell soon after. “It just zipped away.”

  “That’s what I expected,” Kalish said. “But I put enough phosphorescence into the laser banks that it should be tagged. Can you see that on the sensors? We should be able to track its route now.”

  “Excellent,” Thatcher said. “I see it. Yes, that helps. Shoot a couple more.”

  “You’re not cheating, are you, sir?” Sedge asked.

  “Merely using the provided evidence to verify a hypothesis.”

  “You already have a hypothesis?”

  “You don’t?”

  “Bastard,” Sedge grumbled and returned his focus to the display, though there wasn’t much he could do except wait for the program to run. He had always done well at math in school, but solving problems like this in his head was too much to ask from his brain cells. Not that he would admit it to anyone. Especially Kalish. Not that she probably cared a whit about his brain cells now.

  His tablet beeped, and the display flashed a “pattern found” at him and invited him to enter the message to be decoded. Not quite what he needed, but they might be able to figure a safe route in with this information.

  “Got something,” Sedge announced, trying not to sound too triumphant as he sent the file to Thatcher.

  “Yes, that’s what I came up with too,” Thatcher said. “Good work, Thomlin.”

  Sedge propped a fist on his hip. “Striker, you’re the witness over there. Did he really find it before I did?”

  “Yeah, sorry, Sniffles. He tossed the pencil aside a few minutes ago, and he’s programming a route into navigation now.”

  “Transmitting the route,” Thatcher said. “We can go in with the shuttles, if you wish to stay back, Ms. Blackwell. Your vessel is approximately 7.75 times larger than our shuttles, so there will be less margin for error from your pilot.”

  Kalish’s eyes narrowed to slits, and Sedge winced, guessing what she was thinking. That her mercenary allies wanted to loot that platform of valuable ore and perhaps relics as well, while leaving her behind. Sedge knew Thatcher’s only interest in those valuables would be to peek at the alien technology, perhaps poking around in that derelict mining ship, but he was the last person Kalish would believe right now.

  “Unless you’re certain we’ll be perforated with those disks,” Kalish said, her eyes still slits, “we’ll come with you. Should we find anything worth salvaging, the Divining Rod has a much larger cargo area than your shuttles.”

  “A valid point, Ms. Blackwell,” Thatcher said. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll send you a program to upload to your autopilot. Given the precision required to survive this route, it would be better to allow the computer to navigate. Lieutenant Calendula, I will transmit an autopilot program for you as well.”

  Val made a noise somewhere between a snort and a throat clearing. “Is this because of the bat, Gregor?”

  “This is not a condemnation of your piloting skills, Val,” Thatcher said, an atypical gentleness in his usually arrogant voice. Sedge couldn’t remember a time when he had used her first name, even if Val called him Gregor all the time. “I only wish to ensure that you will make it through unscathed,” Thatcher added.

  “Something we appreciate over here,” Tick drawled. “I’m not so married to the idea of looting riches that I’m looking to get sawn in half by some ancient alien throwing stars.”

  “And will you be relying on the autopilot?” Val asked, though she did not sound annoyed, not truly.

  Sedge would be happy to let a computer guide him through a minefield, but he knew pilots sometimes had issues with their egos.

  Indeed, Thatcher hesitated before answering. “Would that please you?”

  “Yes,” Val said. “I know it’s nearly impossible for you to imagine, but a bat cou
ld bounce off your view screen and startle you, too.”

  “I don’t think any bats would be stupid enough to be flying through this,” Tick said.

  “I will use the autopilot,” Thatcher said. “Sending the program now.”

  Sedge closed his tablet, pocketed it, and tried not to feel superfluous. He told himself it did not matter who ultimately solved the problem, so long as it was solved.

  “Got it,” Tia said a minute later.

  “Will it interface with our navigation computer?” Kalish asked.

  “Uhm.” Tia tapped a few buttons. “Looks like it will. He must have known which operating system the Divining Rod runs and adapted it in advance.”

  “Thank you, Commander Thatcher,” Kalish said. “You’re just as good as my astrophysicist was.”

  “Yes,” was all Thatcher said.

  Kalish snorted and whispered, “Just as arrogant too,” to her sister.

  Sedge stuck his hands in his pockets, wishing he had won that praise. He hoped something would come of the message he had sent to the company, fearing that it would take a joyous family reunion, one that he had arranged, for Kalish ever to talk to him again.

  “I will lead the way,” Thatcher said. “Your computers will inform you when the next cycle of safety has begun. Let them do the piloting.”

  “Yes, sweetie, we understand,” Val said.

  “Sweetie?” Striker snickered.

  “What do you call people you care about?” Val asked.

  “Uh.”

  “Striker hasn’t found anyone to care about yet,” Tick said.

  “That’s not true.”

  “Then he hasn’t found anyone to care about him yet.”

  “That... might be more true.”

  “Can’t imagine why,” Val muttered.

  While they were talking, Thatcher’s shuttle led the way, darting quickly out into the field of disk missiles, then stopping abruptly after thirty meters. The craft paused for several seconds, the nose rotating fifteen degrees, then it lurched forward again. Even though he trusted Thatcher’s brain for this, Sedge could not help but feel nervous as he watched. He felt even more nervous about crossing through the field himself. They might have survived having the ship pierced by one disk, but one could slice into the bridge and knock out something vital. Like someone’s skull.

  “Following,” Val said, her voice tense. Yeah, she was worried too.

  Sedge hoped they found something on that platform that would make this effort worth it.

  “Our turn,” Tia said a minute later. She wiped her hands on her trousers, then activated the autopilot.

  Sedge was glad the computer would be guiding them through that maze, especially as he watched the shuttles pass through the disk field, sometimes hovering in a spot as whirring blades streaked past less than two feet away. Even with that reassurance, he chewed on his knuckle when their ship burst forward. He had to catch himself on the back of Kalish’s seat when it lurched to a stop. She looked up at him, but did not meet his gaze for long.

  Clanks came from the cargo hold, Ms. Blackwell working on that hole. She was wise to remain back there, unaware of the nerve-wracking course they took through the disk field.

  “That one almost grazed us,” Tia muttered, alternately watching the view screen and the sensors. “You should get a sleeker treasure-hunting ship from whatever you earn here, Kalish.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  “Remember to pay your crew a nice bonus too.”

  A disk missed cutting the nose of the ship in half by a mere inch, and everyone jumped as it zipped past the view screen. Tia lost her smile and gulped.

  By the time the ship escaped the field, sweat dampened Sedge’s brow and dribbled down the sides of his ribs. “That was nerve-wracking,” he murmured, taking out his handkerchief and mopping his face.

  “No kidding.” Kalish stood up. “But now we get to land and explore.”

  * * *

  The disks stopped zipping all around the cavern soon after the ships landed. Most of the platform was covered in mountains of ore, but four raised docks waited at one end. The shuttles fit perfectly. The Divining Rod looked like a saucer balanced on a pencil top, but enough of the craft fit that it was stable. Kalish had tested the air while Tia navigated the landing and while the environment was not pristine, she had let everyone know that it wouldn’t be dangerous in the short term. Now she was walking down the ramp to the platform, her pack of treasure-hunting tools slung over her shoulder and excitement thrumming through her veins.

  Her mother was staying aboard, working on the hole, but Tia bounced down the ramp beside her, just as eager to explore. Sedge came as well, but he hung back, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched as he kept his distance. His palpable misery made Kalish want to give him a sympathetic hug rather than glare at him, but he had invaded her privacy. She hadn’t been able to tell which of her records he had accessed, but the hidden camera on the bridge had definitely shown him hacking into the mainframe. He deserved to be miserable, damn it.

  She and Tia waited in the rubble field below the ships for the other mercenaries to come out. Kalish carried a rifle and her pistol, along with a multitool and a knife on her belt, but she found it reassuring when Striker and Tick strode out, carrying even more arms. It wasn’t that she expected anyone to be waiting for them in this ancient refinery, but one never knew exactly what one would find, and danger was always a possibility.

  Tick elbowed Striker. “Do you think you brought enough grenades?”

  In addition to the grenades he usually wore on his belt, Striker had donned a bandolier full of them. He also wore a grenade launcher strapped across his back. That did not include the two pistols at his waist, one laser and one projectile, and the rifle cradled in his arms.

  “I’m making up for your lack,” Striker said. “Really, Tick, you’re practically naked.”

  Tick patted his rifle. “Bam Bam is all I need.”

  Thatcher trotted down the ramp, pausing to peer over the edge. The derelict mining craft was visible down there on the ore pile—Kalish had already recorded footage of it from different angles—but there was a hundred-foot drop to reach it.

  “Val lost the coin toss?” Tick asked when Thatcher joined them, his eyes bright.

  “She agreed that this would be a more titillating treat for me.”

  “She likes giving you titillating treats, does she?” Striker asked.

  Ignoring him, Thatcher stooped and touched the grimy rubble they were standing on. The heaps undulated up and down across the platform, with the smokestacks of the refineries just visible over the tops, thanks to the Divining Rod’s lights shining in that direction. Everyone had brought flashlights as well—the mercenaries’ were mounted atop their rifles.

  “The ore is under the limestone deposits,” Thatcher said, then peered into the darkness above them. The ceiling was not visible. “It’s been here a long time, for this to have formed. This part of the cavern doesn’t appear that damp. I ran a sensor sweep, and there aren’t any pools of water at the bottom.”

  “Ten thousand years is long enough for the weather patterns to change,” Kalish said. She had not spotted any of the clouds they had seen the day before, nor were there any ledges full of vegetation. Sedge probably appreciated that. He hadn’t sneezed yet today.

  “Who’s leading?” Tick asked, nodding toward the refineries.

  “You’re the tracker,” Striker said.

  “Am I tracking something?”

  “Yeah, great wealth. Go.”

  Tick shrugged and led the way.

  “Isn’t the great wealth under the limestone accretion?” Sedge asked, following Tick and not showing any interest in digging down to find out.

  Kalish followed the men. She wanted to be near the front, to claim anything scintillating that they might find and also because she usually had a nose for booby traps. She had been chagrined not to anticipate the first one and resolved to spot
any other trouble.

  “Is that what Thatcher said?” Striker peered at the rocky crust above the piles with more interest. “I don’t always remember to listen past the first sentence when he’s talking.”

  “We don’t have any right to take the ore,” Thatcher said.

  “What?” Striker said.

  “Ferago Enterprises has the claim to this land. It wouldn’t be right for us to take ore.”

  “Are you joking? Who cares? Besides, aren’t we here to take their alien relics? What’s the difference?”

  “Alien relics would not be theirs,” Thatcher said. “A mining claim only conveys mineral and gem rights. Relics and coins generally fall under the so-called Finders Keepers law.”

  Kalish nodded as they clambered over a lumpy brown mountain. She clipped a nodule with her boot, and it rolled away, revealing gleaming ore beneath the crust. “It’s true. Unless you’re digging up relics in someone’s backyard.”

  Striker rubbed the side of his head. “Look, we risked our necks coming through that trap. I say we take what we can get. Nobody else is going to get through that, and this stuff is just rotting under that gray gunk. Why not help ourselves? I need a combat bonus, so I can get some more guns. And some women.”

  “You require more guns?” Thatcher looked blandly at Striker’s collection of weapons.

  “Doesn’t everybody? And women. Don’t forget the women. On Dock Seven, if you’ve got fifty aurums, you can get six women at once. All for you.”

  “I hear if you get a woman to like you, you can have her for free,” Tick said over his shoulder.

  “You’ve heard that but not experienced that, as far as I can tell,” Striker said.

  “Not recently, I’ll admit. We move around too much. And don’t get hired by women nearly enough.” Tick shook his head ruefully. “This has been a particularly pleasant change, Ms. Blackwell. Despite the dreary cave setting and the fact that you don’t know if it’s day or night, or if some animal is fixing to jump out and eat you.”