by AM Scott
His crew smiled, slightly rueful and surprised smiles. Some leader he was. He should thank them more often. After some desultory conversation, everyone left. The shuttle seemed oddly empty—the silence echoed. It took a while, but Ruhger finally recognized the problem—he was lonely. How strange. He’d been by himself in this shuttle for years, and now, suddenly, he needed company? He huffed a laugh. Ridiculous. A little regular social interaction and boom, he was needy like one of those teenage girls out there. Ruhger leaned back in his chair with a long, drawn out creak and groan. So much had happened since Galactica Corp attacked Security Fold Transport.
Ruhger hadn’t realized how isolated he’d become during the years of getting Lightwave Fold Transport up and running. He’d had good reasons; he was busy and he was in command. Commanders couldn’t be friends and be effective. But he’d forgotten they weren’t a military command or just a business—Lightwave was family. Suns, what a strange time to have a huge personal revelation.
Snorting, he shook his head again. Revelations were great, but he still had a job to do. Time to move on. Things to do, people to watch, security to analyze. Dinner would come again tomorrow. And if someone was missing from dinner… Ruhger couldn’t think about that too much. No, he’d remember today’s dinner, and just keep going. Moving ahead, not looking back. He smiled and swept up the security vid controls, setting a rotating view of all vids on the big screen in front of him. Work was the best cure.
∆∆∆
Nodding at Chief, Tyron and Katryn, Ruhger said, “It’s a good plan. It’s too bad we couldn’t avoid all the potential problems and pull from the other side of the world, but this will work well. Good job.” Katryn and Tyron smiled at him and Chief nodded gravely.
“I’ll talk to Lashtar about who we can borrow for ground security.” Ruhger considered. “Who did you end up talking to about the well?”
“Navarr,” Katryn said. “She knew where it was and the access codes. The well head is in the walls, but outside the remains of the compound.”
“Good. I hope Lashtar actually got some sleep.”
Tyron shrugged, Katryn raised her brows and Chief… huh, Chief looked a little… odd. He noticed Ruhger looking at him and glared a little. Okay then, nothing to see here. Better to not ask. There was no sense in poking at a Chelonii monster resting quietly in the swamp.
Ruhger forced a smile and said, “The price of command. So, we’ve got our plan, we’ll get some additional people. We’ll execute at twenty-two-hundred ship time tonight. Get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”
The three of them nodded and rose. Chief hesitated at the hatch.
“Chief, you need something?”
He stood there for a moment, clearly lost in thought. Then his face firmed, lips compressed in a picture of resolve. He shook his head once, sharply. “No. I’ll see you at twenty-one-hundred tonight, Captain.”
“Copy that, Chief. Sleep well.”
Chief arrowed a look at him. Ruhger couldn’t read that look at all. He turned away and left. Ruhger sighed. This whole thing couldn’t be over soon enough. The situation was messing with everyone. If Chief was getting emotional on him, who was next?
He scrubbed his hands across his head and pushed the resulting mess back off his face. Another thing he didn’t have time for—a haircut. No opportunities either—no convenient, cheap space station barbers out here. Maybe one of the Sisters could cut hair? He snorted and chuckled. They might, but they’d probably never cut a man’s hair. Or if they had, it was many years ago. Well, it didn’t have to look good, just fit under his helmet, not get in his eyes and, most of all, stay short. Right now, all this hair held in way too much heat. Soon, it would flop in his eyes. But a haircut would have to wait.
In the meantime, he would plot trajectories and fill in some of the water plan details. He sent a normal priority message off to Lashtar asking for six weapons-trained personnel and two mechanics, preferably mechanics who worked on the well. If Lashtar was sleeping, he didn’t want to wake her, and he didn’t need names yet.
He cycled through all Lightwave’s vids. People lined up neatly in the chow hall, others stowed bedding in the dorms. Lines were long but orderly outside the few sonic showers available. In the cargo holds, townspeople put away bedding and lined up in front of the sani-mod stations they’d help build. Sisters moved among the wounded, with relatives sitting nearby. Misgivings weighed on him. They’d lost one more last night. The minimal medico station they had just wasn’t up to the severity of combat injuries. It needed an upgrade. Ruhger shook his head in sorrow. When they’d originally outfitted Lightwave for fold transport, they never thought they’d need a combat-grade medico box. Guess they shouldn’t have sold it off. Or all the weapons. Or the sanitization stations. He snorted. That was hindsight for you. It seemed like every decision they’d made back in the day was biting them now.
Well, dwelling on the past didn’t do anything useful. Time to move on.
Crew locations. Loreli was in the kitchen. He pulled up the vid. She seemed to be in teaching mode again. Good. Teaching kept her, and her students, busy and happy. He’d seen Grant in with the Havenites earlier, talking to one of the nursing Sisters. Fortunately, the head nurse, not one of the younger girls. They didn’t need that kind of trouble added on to all of the trouble they had now. But Grant knew that. Besides, Grant seemed to prefer experience and adventure—he wasn’t at all interested in giggling girls, thank the seven suns of Saga.
Tyron and Katryn were in their quarters, hopefully sleeping, but Ruhger wasn’t pulling up a vid to check. They needed rest. Chief was in the engine room and so was…Lashtar? What the suns was Lashtar doing in the engine room?
He pulled up the vid. Oh. Ruhger blinked. That’s what Lashtar was doing in the engine room. Ruhger smiled at the two of them locking lips, bodies tightly clenched. He hastily swept the vid off. No need to see anymore. Ah hah. That’s why Chief looked so odd at the end of shift change. He laughed, the sound ringing around the shuttle. Good for him. And good for Lashtar. Although if it got out… it wouldn’t be good at all. Well, he’d do his best to cover for them. But this, combined with her take-no-prisoners command style, was likely to get her expelled from the Sisters. Ruhger shook his head. Not his system, not his space junk.
Although… it could be. What if Lashtar asked to join their crew? Or Chief asked to bring her on? Ruhger groaned. She’d be an asset, overall, but also an issue. Tyron was in charge of Lightwave’s security. Katryn technically worked for him. Many couples couldn’t handle the arrangement, but Tyron and Katryn worked together well, concentrating on their areas of expertise and overlapping as needed. Lashtar was used to being in charge and she wouldn’t be on Lightwave—no way Ruhger would demote Tyron. She’d have to work for Tyron, and that wasn’t likely to work well at all. He rubbed his head again. Well, they weren’t there yet. No sense in looking for black holes to dive into—they had enough trouble now.
But not quite enough to keep him from worrying about the Scholar.
Chapter 18
Suns. Catching herself on the rock wall for the umpteenth time in the last hour, Saree pushed onward. Ferra wasn’t doing any better. They hadn’t heard their pursuers since they’d left the initial sloping tunnel—with any luck, the Inquisitors had got lost in the maze of unmarked, branching tunnels. And if they found the sample site, maybe finding the treasure they came for would distract them.
This whole thing was such a waste. The chances of finding what the Sa’sa wanted on a planet were slim—most came from the explosive results of new suns or the equally explosive results of old suns going nova. They were usually asteroids, and the elements were rarely found on habitable planets, although it did happen. If there were useful transuranic metals here, they were far more likely to be the common ones, like uranium, plutonium or maybe americanium. Those were useful but the Sa’sa wouldn’t care. Most likely, Ferra just made it easier for the Inquisitors and Galactica Corps.
B
ut it didn’t matter. They were here and they had to escape. Stopping, Saree leaned against the tunnel wall, scrubbing at her face. They were both exhausted, making a very bad situation worse. Saree turned toward Ferra, who leaned against the opposite tunnel wall, staring blankly ahead. “Look, we’re both tired. Really tired. Is there a description of any side passages or nooks or something where we could get a couple hours of sleep?”
Turning, Ferra glared at her. “We don’t need sleep, we need to get out of here.”
Saree leaned more of her weight on the tunnel wall. “We will. But if we’re stumbling around, we’re going to get noticed. I’m tripping over my own feet and so are you. A couple of hours of rest and we’ll be in better shape to continue.”
Ferra glared harder, but her body sagged against the wall. “We need to get out of here. How could you sleep with all this—” she motioned at the tunnel above them with frantic jabs “—above our heads, waiting to come down?”
“It’s stable; it’s not coming down. These are water-carved tunnels, made eons ago.” She shrugged. “Besides, it doesn’t bother me at all. I’m used to living in tunnels.”
Ferra kept glaring, but at this point, Saree didn’t care at all. Ferra said, “I thought you grew up on Sa’sa.”
“I did. The Sa’sa have always nested underground; the surface environment is harsh. They like tight spaces; they’re easier to defend. The humans live in a small section of tunnels specifically carved for them.” Ferra had no need to know, but the human colony was carved into a mountain the Sa’sa didn’t use. Which was strange; their world was crowded, but they didn’t use huge portions of it. She’d never wondered why.
Ferra shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I want out of here and I want to get this sample to Lightwave. Now.”
Saree shook her head. Ferra’s claustrophobia was interfering with common sense. But this entire venture made all the sense of a hyperbolic comet chase. “We’re going to do something stupid and get caught.” Pushing off the tunnel wall, she started walking again. She didn’t need another painful reminder that Ferra was in charge. She’d just keep moving, one foot in front of the other.
Her fingertips were raw from dragging across the stone walls—her gloves were worn through—and her wrists hurt from catching herself when she tripped. The muscles in her legs were screaming from the slightly hunched or outright crouched position she was forced to take all too often and the odd foot positions the round tunnel required. Even her ears ached, trying to hear sounds of pursuit over the noise of their passage. The soles of Saree’s feet were starting to throb. And her knees burned where the rock scraped right through her leggings.
Blast! Falling! Scratching against the yellow rock, Saree scrambled for a hold on the wall, but couldn’t catch anything. Her right shoulder hit the rock, her breath whooshing out of her. Blast it all to a black hole. Saree closed her eyes and tried to make her lungs work, finally gasping in some badly needed air. She rolled to her left side and curled up a little. Ow. Now she really hurt.
Something hit the bottom of her foot. Ow.
“Let’s go, Scholar. You’re wasting time,” Ferra hissed.
Saree didn’t bother to look up at her. She slowly opened her eyes, not ready to see more yellow, red or beige rock. She froze. What was that?
Another kick impacted the sole of her boot, so she put up a hand in a forceful ‘stop’ motion and swung her body around into a seated position, leaning against the wall. Saree crooked a finger at Ferra. “Look!” A small black box was attached to the wall in front of her, a green light glowing against the beige rock on the far side. That’s why she’d tripped; they were walking on rough beige rock again, and she’d been too tired to notice.
Ferra crouched down next to her. She sucked in a sharp breath. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a long-range sensor, or there would be someone here already. It might be an anti-vermin laser or just a warning screen. Either way, it means the Inquisitors are close. Do we have to go this way?” Saree kept looking at the box. There was a button on the top, probably to turn it on or off. Would it send an alert if they turned it off? Or could they just step over it? If they stayed close to the wall, maybe they wouldn’t set it off. Saree grimaced. ‘Maybe’ being the key word. But why an anti-vermin device? They’d seen no sign of any living thing in these tunnels.
Shuffling through her plas sheets, Ferra sighed. “Yes. We have to go this way. We’ve got several alternatives after this, but we have to go through here.” She sighed again and muttered, “Mother, protect us.”
Saree shrugged out of her pack. She really doubted the Mother cared much about Ferra at this point. Saree had no problem believing there were greater entities or higher powers out there; she just didn’t think any of them cared about humans. Especially individual humans. Or any other individual beings. And if they did, none of them should care much for Ferra’s actions. The ends did not justify the means.
“What are you doing? Let’s go.”
“I’m getting a drink. If we can’t sleep, we need water and food.” Looking Ferra straight in the eyes, she continued, “Otherwise, we’re definitely going to get caught.” Waiting, she held Ferra’s glare until she looked away. Ferra collapsed against the opposite wall and shrugged off her own pack. They drank and ate in silence. Saree was down to a single bev-tainer, and she’d bet Ferra was out from the way she was lifting that one to the sky. Great. More good news.
Saree was closing her pack when Ferra said, “Here. You carry this.”
Now what? Saree turned back; Ferra was holding out the sample box. Really? After all this, Ferra expects me to tote her useless treasure? Glaring at Ferra, she looked closer. Dark, almost black circles ringed Ferra’s eyes and her lids were puffy. Her whole face sagged, along with her shoulders. But as Saree watched, she stiffened them and levered herself to her feet. The woman was determined.
“Let’s go. Do we turn it off or step over it?”
Saree shrugged. She had no idea what capabilities the thing might have.
“Fine.” Ferra glared again, but at the box. “Turn it off, go through, turn it on. We’ll do it fast.”
Nodding in agreement, Saree turned back to her pack, putting the sample box in it and fastening it back up, making sure nothing had scraped loose against the walls or when she fell. They didn’t want to leave any evidence of their location. Putting the pack back on, she oofed a bit under the added weight. Probably a lead-lined box, which was just as well if that sample really was a transuranic. Crawling closer to the box, careful to stay against the wall, Saree depressed the button on top. The green light turned off. Ferra brushed past, Saree moved around the whatever-it-was box on her hands and knees, wincing with the bite of stone against her battered skin, and turned it back on. She breathed a sigh of relief when the green light appeared again. Hopefully it wasn’t a sensor.
With effort, Saree got back on her feet. They’d have to look for more sensors or whatevers as they walked. Oh, suns. They were going to get caught. “Ferra,” she hissed.
Ferra turned back to her.
“Watch for sensors, on the floor and ceiling, and more of those things. These guys are paranoid, remember?”
Ferra nodded sharply, and continued ahead, but slower. From the way her head swiveled, she was scanning carefully, but how long would that last? They were exhausted. Add Ferra’s claustrophobia on top of that…
They kept moving, the tunnel sloping gradually up. It varied in height and width but was mostly large enough to walk almost comfortably, yellow rock surrounding them. It gradually got larger, until they walked through a big open space. The sounds of their footsteps lessened without walls to bounce the noise back to them.
Ferra kept to the left-hand side, hugging the wall. Saree looked out into the cavern, but her light disappeared in the gloom. This was a huge space. And… she looked down. There was sand on the floor, more and more of it as the space opened up. At least it gave them a flatter an
d softer surface to walk on. Those rounded yellow tunnel floors were tough on the ankles, feet and knees. Although, along with the soft sand, the dust of Gliese reappeared, puffing up around them as they trod along. Saree focused back on the wall. That must be why the sensor or laser or whatever was down there in the tunnel—the Inquisitors knew this huge space was here. The question was, why weren’t they using it? It seemed like a perfect spot for a group to live. Maybe they were still too far from the surface? She’d really like to get a look at Ferra’s notes.
Ferra stopped and Saree almost ran into her. Stepping up next to Ferra, she looked. A new tunnel opened up to their left.
Leaning over, Ferra spoke softly in her ear. “Trena marked all the tunnels from this cavern, which is huge—it’s three klicks long. Dead ends are marked ‘DE,’ the ones she never got to the end of are marked with a question mark, and the ones going out are marked ‘O’ with a number, starting from the other side of this cavern. We want number three, but any of them will work eventually; they just go longer and farther away. Got it?”
Saree nodded. Good of Ferra to tell her. She must be worried about them running into the Inquisitors. Which she should be. Saree looked at wall. This one was marked ‘O7,’ so she followed Ferra. Walking along the cavern wall, Saree considered what Ferra said. Taking the one exiting closest was probably a mistake. They’d be found. She was just about to ask when she heard a noise. Ferra stopped in front of her, so she probably heard it too.
“…waste of time, I’m telling you. Dalm is a Klee-humper,” a whiny male voice said faintly.
An icy finger of fear snaked down between her shoulder blades. The box did have a sensor on it, blast it all to a black hole. The Inquisitors were here, right now. Looking for them. Saree clenched her fists and the pain of her scraped hands brought her back to reality. There was no sense in freezing; they had to hide. The voice was still faint, so they had time. Saree poked Ferra between the shoulder blades and she started violently. She turned back to Saree, glaring daggers. Saree mouthed, “Hide!” at her. Ferra’s eyes widened, then she twirled around, her light shining on the tunnel wall. Saree reached up and adjusted her light to the smallest pinprick she could. Maybe red would be better, but she’d have to take it off to find the setting. She caught up to Ferra and put her hand on Ferra’s shoulder, shoving her into the cavern wall a little. She hissed into her ear, “Turn your light down!”
