The Star Bell (The Cendrillon Cycle Book 3)

by Stephanie Ricker

  Elsa nodded, feeling nervousness rise again, but the wave was smaller this time. She had never taken geologic samples before, but she could operate a remote drill in her sleep. “Sure, no problem.” She glanced at Karl, who gave her another encouraging smile and moved out of his seat, gesturing for her to take it.

  “All yours,” he said. “I don’t know the first thing about core samples.” He moved to the rear of the skiff to grab one of the headsets, presumably to communicate with Anders without distracting the others from their work.

  Elsa sat down and buckled herself in out of habit, even though half of the occupants of the skiff were on their feet instead. She exhaled slowly, running her eyes over the controls. Stars above, she was glad for standardization of drill controls. They didn’t look too different from what she had occasionally used as a cinder. She toyed with the drill experimentally, watching the camera feed as the tool moved in response to her commands.

  Meanwhile, Arne coaxed the skiff as close as possible to the peak Louise had chosen. “Lower,” the geologist ordered. “Elsa still can’t reach the ledge with the drill.”

  “Any lower and we’ll be sitting on the ledge,” Arne groused, but he maneuvered the skiff lower.

  Louise checked her sensor display briefly. “Any chance of rotating us ten degrees to starboard?” she asked. “There’s a particularly wonderful outcropping that I would just love to sample.”

  “Wonderful,” Arne deadpanned. “Ten degrees rotation to starboard.”

  Louise requested two more minute adjustments before she was finally satisfied. “Okay. I think that’s as close as we’re going to get. Elsa?”

  “Ready,” she declared. The drill spun to life under her command, and she was relieved to see it bite into the rock close enough to where she had aimed. “How deep do you want the core sample?” Her knuckles were white on the drill controls as she focused on keeping the drill steady. Arne was holding the skiff as still as he could, but there was only so much the pilot could do.

  “Four feet, if you can manage it,” Louise said, never taking her eyes from the camera feed of the drill at work. “But I don’t know how apt this rock is to fracture.”

  Elsa winced as the skiff moved slightly in response to some vagary of the atmosphere, jolting the drill. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  As the drill neared the end of its work, she held her breath, hoping the skiff would remain motionless and the core sample wouldn’t break off. “Got it!” she said, releasing the breath. She retracted the core sample retrieved by the drill up into the underside of the skiff, where it would be stored until they reached the Sovereign.

  “Great work,” Louise told her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “That sample was flawless. I can’t wait to take a look at it when we get back.” She looked wistfully at Karl in the rear of the skiff as though she wished they could go back to the ship even now.

  Something within Elsa warmed to the praise. It had been many, many years since an older woman expressed approval of her work.

  Karl spoke up from the rear. “Anders reports that they’ve been flying over a massive forest for some time now. Ginevra wants to take some flora samples from the treetops, so I’ve authorized it as long as they can do so using the external collectors. She’d climb the tree herself if I let her,” he grumbled. “No sense of self-preservation whatsoever.” He got up and moved to the front so he could see out of the viewscreen. “Let’s proceed up to the volcanic activity we detected on the shipboard sensors,” he said. “We have time to collect lava samples before rendezvousing with Anders, especially if they’re stopping to pick the flowers.”

  Arne exhaled explosively and let the skiff move away from the peak. “Do we have to scrape our belly on the lava the way we are on this chunk of rock?” he asked. A bead of sweat clung to his forehead, and he rolled his shoulders, working out the stress of keeping the skiff still for so long.

  “Shouldn’t be quite as tricky,” Elsa said absently, already fiddling with the collector scoop controls. “I imagine the wind will be lesser at a lower altitude.” She glanced up through the viewscreen. “So where is this lava? All I’m seeing is mountains.”

  Louise was back at her panel, running scans. “Another couple hundred miles north. Arne, I’m feeding this information into your navigation panel.”

  “Got it,” Arne said.

  The skiff’s engines engaged, pressing Elsa back against the seat before the inertial dampeners also engaged, smoothing out the g-forces. The mountains below them passed by in a black blur as the skiff rose, cruising at a higher altitude for only a few moments before dipping back down, closer to the giant peaks.

  Elsa caught her breath. The skiff moved much, much faster than a mining coach, and it was easy to become disoriented. Arne was unfazed, however, and flicked his gaze from his navigation panel to his instruments to the screen ahead of him with a nonchalance that made Elsa simultaneously nervous and reassured.

  He gestured ahead of them with his chin. “There. That opening in the peaks is where Louise’s readings are coming from.”

  Elsa craned her neck to see, but she had to wait another moment before they sailed close enough for the shortest member of the crew to catch a glimpse of the gap Arne mentioned. “Is it a volcano?” she asked, puzzled. They should be seeing an ash cloud, if that were the case.

  Arne shook his head slowly. “No,” he said, “I don’t think so.”

  Louise whistled, transfixed by the data coming in. “It’s a lava lake, but it makes the fields I’ve seen look like puddles. This thing goes for miles.”

  Elsa frowned, dredging up little-touched memories from her cinder training. “Wouldn’t a lava lake require a volcano, though? I thought those only formed in the crater of an active volcano.”

  “Mmhmm,” Louise said, “and it’d have to be a terribly active one too, to keep spewing this much lava out.” She glanced out the viewscreen. “Can you take us up close, Arne? There has to be a faucet in there somewhere, filling this sink.”

  “Sure,” Arne said. “Shouldn’t there be a lot more ash in the air if this thing were a volcano?”

  “Seems like it should be a heck of a lot hotter than this too,” Karl said, checking the temperature read-out. “It’s warm out there, but not that warm.”

  “None of the mountains had snow on them,” Elsa pointed out. “Maybe there was an explosion recent enough to keep the ambient temperature warm, but long enough ago that the ash has had a chance to settle. We wouldn’t be able to see it, on these black mountains.”

  Louise shook her head. “But if they were covered in ash, they wouldn’t be so reflective. It looks like someone smashed a bottle up here. No, there’s something else going on. Could just be vent activity,” she added, but she sounded doubtful.

  The skiff rose up over the lip of the gap, and Arne flew her in a wide arc to starboard.

  “Stars above,” Karl muttered.

  Blackness deeper than the surrounding mountains lay beneath them. The darkness looked like an enormous hole in the ground, a gaping maw sucking up the world. Only after a moment did Elsa realize that what she took to be a hole due to its blackness was really the surface of the lava lake itself. Scarlet threads of molten lava seamed its surface, all the brighter in comparison with the black sleekness of the lake. Even as they watched, liquid flame seeped through one of the fissures, turning the blackness around it red-hot again.

  Louise all but squealed with glee. “This place is a geologist’s playground!” She tapped the back of the pilot’s seat excitedly. “Take us in closer, Arne.”

  Arne looked less than thrilled by the idea. “You sure that’s safe?”

  Karl gave him a nod. “Anything short of diving straight into it, and we’ll be fine. This bird is pretty heavily armored.” He glanced at the temperature again. “It did heat up quite a bit when we came over that ridge, though, and we have a rendezvous to make. We need to get your sample and get out, Louise.” He gave the geologist a warning look. “Don’
t get carried away. This is the first of many trips you’ll make down here, I’m sure,” he added dryly.

  Louise barked a laugh. “It better be!” She pointed out a spot to Arne. “Can you take us in right there? That looks like a prime spot for taking a sample.”

  Greg looked askance at the aforementioned spot. “Yes, if by prime spot you mean hotter than a thruster intake.” He shot a look to Elsa. “You able to get a sample from that?”

  Elsa laughed delightedly, causing Karl and Louise to look at her as well. “I certainly am. This is a breeze.” She was enjoying this tremendously. Here, finally, she was in her element. If there was one thing she knew, it was lava. “In fact, can you slave the skiff controls to my console?” she asked, feeling quite bold. “I can take us in.”

  The confidence rang so strong in her voice that Arne had halfway agreed before belatedly remembering to look to Karl for confirmation. “Go ahead,” the lieutenant said, watching Elsa with an interest bordering on wonder.

  Elsa situated herself in her seat, giving her shoulders a wiggle to get comfortable under the harness. She couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. Finally, she could be useful! She felt the skiff hiccup slightly as the controls switched to her console, and she experimented a bit to get the feel for them. She flew the skiff in a lazy loop, getting used to how they behaved. Not too bad, she thought. A little harder to maneuver than a mining coach, but far faster, of course.

  “Deploying the collector scoops,” she said, feeling more than hearing the clank of the hatch on the underside of the skiff as it opened to let the scoops extend. She threw a glance over her shoulder. “How much do you want, Louise?”

  “As much as you can get—” Louise saw Karl’s head shake and amended, somewhat crestfallen, “Just one pass.”

  “Save some for the next trip,” Karl teased, resting his hands on the back of Elsa’s seat. “No need to take half the planet.”

  Elsa had the measure of the controls now, and she bit her lip to keep her grin from betraying her intentions. “In we go,” she said smoothly, and the skiff dove towards the lava.

  Arne yelped. Karl’s fingers tightened on the material of Elsa’s seatback, but he didn’t say anything.

  The skiff swooped up at the last moment like a hawk pulling up before attacking its prey. Elsa flew low over the lava, slowing to find just the right spot. Below them, the lava roiled, lighting their faces with its red glow. Arne shuddered. Elsa couldn’t help laughing with pleasure.

  “There,” Louise said breathlessly, a little rattled by the dive. She sent some coordinates to Elsa’s console. “If you can get there. Looks pretty hot.”

  “I can get there,” Elsa said, confidence ringing clear in her voice. She zigzagged across the lava lake towards the coordinates Louise indicated.

  Arne leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, watching avidly. “Why the zigzag?” he asked.

  “Because,” Elsa said, eyes narrowed in concentration, “of things like…that.” She nodded her head towards their starboard just as she jerked the skiff to port. Lava shot up from the surface of the lake in a deceptively lazy-looking arc.

  Arne yelped again, and Karl’s fingers seemed about to go through the material of Elsa’s seatback. “Told you we needed a cinder,” he murmured, loud enough for her ears only.

  Louise was taking readings as fast as she could. “How did you know that was going to happen?” she demanded. “I didn’t predict it from the sensor readings.”

  Elsa shrugged as much as the harness would allow. “After a few years, you get a feel for when it’s going to blow. It’s a combination of how the temperature rises, the visual appearance of the lava, and the viscosity.” She struggled to articulate the sense that cinders obtained for the lava. “I don’t know how else to describe it, but it’s something more than that. Bruno says it’s the same sense that tells a good cook that the pot is about to boil over on the stove a moment before it does.” Her gaze focused sharply and suddenly. “Hold on.”

  The skiff corkscrewed wildly to starboard this time, making Karl stumble against the bulkhead and finally release Elsa’s seatback to put an arm out and catch himself before the dampeners kicked in. A massive geyser of molten rock vomited into the sky, dousing the space where they had been a moment ago in flame.

  “This whole area is very unstable,” Elsa said unnecessarily. Her eyes flickered from the controls to the temperature readout and back in an instant. “Time to get our sample and get out.”

  She took a shallower dive, swooped low, low, low over the lava, collector scoops poised at the ready. Without stopping the skiff, she dipped lower, letting the collectors fill as they skimmed the surface, and climbed steeply into the air, retracting the scoops inside the body of the skiff as she did so.

  “Stars,” Arne cried. “Hurry up!”

  “We are,” Elsa said, still calm. This was like a normal day of mining without the pressure to fulfill a quota of ore. Practically a pleasure cruise, really. She gunned the skiff’s engines, taking them skywards at a crazed angle to avoid what she knew was coming.

  The lake below erupted. Harder, unmelted rock that had lain submerged under the magma till now was thrust into the air in a massive fount of lava. The solid rock jabbed into the air like a spear, seemed to hang there for a moment, and then crashed down—but not all of the way.

  “How is that possible?” Louise marveled.

  The lava geyser had partially solidified already, leaving a javelin of rock pointing skyward, its base still in the lake. As they watched, the rock cleaved, shearing off a rough sheet of itself and leaving behind the smooth, glassy texture of the mountains they had seen.

  “I think we know how your mountains formed,” Karl told Louise, who was sputtering with excitement.

  “No, no, we really don’t,” she said. She pointed out the viewscreen. “That is not possible! Lava just doesn’t behave that way.”

  Elsa cleared her throat. “Well,” she said, breaking off when Louise and Karl both turned to look at her. “It does sometimes,” she said. “I’ve seen geysers like that on Rhodophis. Not with that crystalline structure, the smooth sides—that’s new,” she hastened to add. “If this whole range were covered by a similar, much larger lava lake many years ago, such formations might accrete to form the mountains we saw earlier.”

  Louise still looked skeptical. “So much more study has to be done,” she said, gazing through the viewscreen with greedy eyes. “Can we just take a quick pass around the formation?” she asked Karl, pleading in her eyes.

  He hesitated. Elsa knew they needed to meet up with Anders shortly. “All right,” he relented. “One quick pass. But you’ll be back down here tomorrow, you know.”

  “I better be,” Louise muttered. “I’d steal the Sovereign and take her down myself if you didn’t give me a skiff.” She gestured to Elsa. “Could you take us around on—”

  Arne leaned forward in his chair so fast his feet hit the deck with a thump. “Distress beacon from the other skiff just activated,” he called out. “And they’re opening a commline,” he added, slapping the control to transfer the commline to the cabin-wide speakers.

  A burst of noise filled the skiff. An alarm screamed and a jumble of voices rang out from the other vehicle.

  Karl’s voice cut through the racket. “Anders, report! What is your situation?” He pointed to Arne. “Run a scan,” he said in a rapid undertone. “Find where they are, and get us there as fast as you can.”

  Anders’ voice came through more clearly, taut with panic kept under tight rein. “We’re under attack, Lieutenant.”

  “By what?” Karl snapped.

  “Not sure, sir.” Elsa noticed the Fleet officers reverted back to a more formal address when in danger. “Something landed on the skiff, and it’s alive. The dorsal camera was knocked out by the impact, so we can’t see what it is.”

  That explained the alarm: proximity detector. Arne finished his scan and glanced at Elsa. “I know you’re better with lava,
” he said, “but I’m good with speed—”

  “Already switching the controls back to you,” she interrupted. “Go.”

  Arne whipped the skiff around, taking them to the southern forests. Their speed going out had been slow; information gathering was the goal. Now they raced at many times that rate, and the black mountains blurred into a long, dark smear below them.

  “Whatever it is, it’s hefty,” Anders continued. “We’re trying to shake it off by taking evasive maneuvers.” He muttered an order to his pilot that the rest of them couldn’t hear clearly.

  Marraine’s bell-like voice came through, however. “Do you hear that?” she asked someone else in the skiff. “It’s clawing on the roof.”

  Anders’ voice dimmed slightly, presumably as he turned away from the cabin’s microphone to answer. “It can’t get in,” he reassured her.

  There was an inhuman scream, alien and profoundly disturbing. It was Marraine, Elsa realized with a shock—she had never heard her scream before. Another alarm joined in counterpoint to the first.

  Karl sucked in a breath. “Anders, please respond.”

  “I’m losing control,” Oxlan shouted through the commline. “Starboard thruster is out.”

  The whine of an overstressed engine filled the skiff, adding to the noise.

  Arne threw a glance at Karl. “I know that sound. They’re going down, sir.”

  “How far are we from their location?” Karl asked.

  Arne took his hand from the helm long enough to run the calculation. “Still eight minutes at top speed, sir. They’re on a separate continent.”

  Karl cursed, the first time Elsa had heard him do so. “They should’ve taken an armored skiff too instead of that lighter model.”

  The cacophony from the other skiff cut off abruptly, leaving a dead silence that was far more ominous. Elsa repressed a shiver.