The huge balloon tyres were as tall as she was, and she took advantage by scurrying beneath the vehicle rather than walking around to check the other side. Everything was secure and she was ready to go. She exited the shuttle using the cargo ramp and headed across the hold toward Eric’s shuttle where he was still loading his APC.
Both of the APCs were loaded with remotes and supplies that should be useful. She had chosen her loadout herself and was satisfied with her picks. The regiment’s APCs came with a default loadout to support a platoon of vipers in battle, but although they did carry recon remotes, none of it was really made for this situation. Weapons and ammo were useless here, and Gina had considered unloading it all to make room for more capable sensing gear, but in the end she decided not to bother. She had the entire troop hold built to carry forty vipers to use for her cargo, and she had done so.
Eric had his own shuttle and gear, and had probably made different choices. It didn’t matter. This wasn’t a race or competition, but Gina admitted to herself she would like to be the one to discover the location of the prize. It had been her data that prompted this initial probe. As ordered, she had found a library for Eric to check out, while she had reserved an archive and Infonet server for her own investigations.
“Ready?” Eric said. “I need a few more minutes.”
Gina eyed the pile of gear awaiting loading, and stared enviously at the tracked jewel in Eric’s crown. She cursed herself for not thinking of it. It was a droid that the regiment used to defuse unexploded ordnance and IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices). The Marines used them a lot when fighting terrorist outbreaks in the border worlds, which is where Gina had gained her experience of them.
“Expecting things that go boom?” Gina asked, nodding at the gleaming black droid.
“No, I’m expecting to send it ahead so I don’t catch cold,” Eric said and grinned at her scowl. “I think there’s another one in storage. I’m sure I packed two.”
Gina didn’t say a word.
“I could let you have the spare,” Eric said in a wheedling boyish tone.
“How much?” Gina bit out, but she was going to laugh if he kept at it.
“For you a mere nothing. A favour to be named at a later date.”
“A favour, huh? I don’t like open ended favours. You could ask for my last power cell in battle or something.”
Eric chuckled. “How about dinner at Stirlings when we get back.”
Gina’s eyebrows climbed. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
Eric turned serious and nodded. “Deal?”
Gina bumped fists with him. “Deal. Where is it?”
Eric gave her directions and she trotted off to fetch her droid. Less than thirty minutes later, both shuttles were loaded and waiting to launch. The cargo hold took time to pump down, but before Gina knew it, she was on her way out of the ship and piloting the shuttle toward her target on the surface of Kushiel.
“Hobbs this is Alpha-Two, proceeding on a least time direct course to my LZ. Will be going dark in... one-three minutes... mark.”
“Alpha-Two, Hobbs copies. Good luck down there, don’t catch cold.”
“Ha-ha. Alpha-Two out,” Gina said. By going dark she was referring to her entry into atmosphere when she would be briefly out of contact. “Alpha-One this is Two. You read?”
“Alpha-Two, Alpha-One reading five by. You need something, Gina?”
“Nope, just wondering about putting up a relay sat. We’ll lose comms when we land.”
The two landing sites were too far apart for viper comm or TacNet without relay sats in orbit. Hobbs was overhead of course and would position itself to allow the shuttles to communicate with her, but the freighter wasn’t exactly equipped to support vipers in the field.
“We already decided against that, Gina.”
We didn’t, Eric did, but he was right about his reasons. They were here illegally. Hobbs could say, would say if asked, that she’d had an engineering casualty and was only in orbit until repairs were finished. Seeding the planet with satellites though would more than queer their lame excuse. What reasons could they give?
Gina shrugged. “Okay, just checking. Have to bounce helmet comms off the shuttles and up to Hobbs.”
“Right.”
He didn’t have to say, that of course they would do that, but she heard it in how he didn’t say it. She grinned and changed the subject. She still had roughly ten minutes to atmosphere.
“So, dinner eh?”
“What’s wrong with dinner?” Eric said. “Got something better to do?”
“I could find something I’m sure. Polishing my boots maybe. Seriously, a date?”
“Why not? It’s not like either of us get out much.”
Gina snorted. “True.” She checked her autopilot was following its programming. It was. “You think we’re okay though? You’re my commanding officer.”
Eric sighed. “It’s only dinner, Gina. You are so... you are such a Marine!”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” Gina said. She had been proud to call herself a Marine for fifteen years of her life, but he made it sound like a bad thing. She couldn’t help but be offended.
“You’re so gung-ho it’s painful. We’re vipers, Gina, not Marines. Hell, we’re not even Human strictly speaking. Not anymore. We have our own ways, and besides, we’re adults. If you think you can’t control yourself...”
Gina blew a raspberry.
Eric laughed. “Well then. We’re agreed that two adults, such as ourselves, can have a dinner date together and not have it affect our working relationship. We are, right?”
“Absolutely,” Gina said.
“Good.”
“Good.”
“It’s a date then,” Eric said.
“Right.”
The silence stretched on longer than was comfortable. Gina searched for something to say, and eyed her chrono. Three minutes to atmosphere.
“Want to bet that I find the prize before you?” Gina said clutching at work to fill the silence.
“Stakes?” Eric said sounding interested.
Not dinner again, Gina thought, though she wasn’t averse. This had to be better. “If I win you come with me on a mystery weekend. There will be fresh air and sunshine, and a possibility of drowning. You like boats?”
“Boats? Sure.”
“The sailing kind I mean,” Gina added to be sure.
“Yeah boats, I know boats. Sails and ropes and stuff. Old school.”
Gina nodded. “Yeah, that kind.”
“And if I win?” Eric said.
“That won’t happen, obviously, but just to make it fair, what do you want?”
“Hmmm. Do you like going to the sensarium?”
“Are you suggesting dinner and a sensim?” A bit cliché of him, but she wouldn’t mind. Sensariums were like the civilian version of running a sim, except you didn’t participate, you watched the story from within the fictional world the producers designed. It was kind of cool. Different enough from real sims to be fun. Restful too. “I went with Kate to the new Zelda and the Spaceways sensim. It was pretty funny.”
“I don’t think it’s meant to be a comedy,” Eric said doubtfully.
“Definitely not. Rabid Zelda fans would kill us for even thinking it.”
“If I win then, you come with me to the sensarium in Petruso City, but I choose the sensim. No Zelda.”
Gina smiled. “Okay...” the first turbulence shook the shuttle. “Blackout in ten seconds. See you later.”
“...Gina... up...” Eric’s voice faded.
She was into atmosphere now. The autopilot could handle things, but Gina was ready to take over the controls instantly. The weather front she would be entering could cause unpredictable updraughts and turbulence. A blizzard was in full swing over the target, but it was nothing to really concern a shuttle of this type. It had plenty of power, designed as it was for carrying heavy loads. Its power to weight ratio was through the roof, especial
ly when mostly unloaded like now. Its muscle was closer to what a tug would have. The APC and other gear she had packed might as well weigh nothing for all the difference it made.
Gina took the autopilot offline just a few kilometres from her objective and flew manually. She had every sensor the shuttle had scanning the surface looking for the antenna mast she had found on Hobbs. That telltale artifact gave her hope that the Infonet node it served was still intact. Not operational of course. It had no power, but she would fix that. Infonet nodes were housed within self-sufficient automated stations and acted as signal relays and buffers. When operational, they provided their community with access to Infonet and other net services, including archive access. Gina didn’t expect to find the prize here; that wasn’t the point of landing at this one. She was hoping to use it as a starting point in her plan of mapping the physical locations of all the other nodes and possibly even the A.I itself.
But first a landing upon unstable snow and ice.
The external cameras showed unforgiving white. Altitude was down to the hundreds of metres now, not thousands, and Gina expected proximity alarms to wail at any moment. Most of the buildings would be buried beneath the ice. The scans she had studied aboard Hobbs showed that pretty well, but the mast was tall even bent and canted at a twenty degree angle, and there were other taller buildings to watch out for. Not many, Woolsery was a minor community and seemed to be mostly two story dwellings, but there were enough to be wary of.
The proximity alarm wailed.
“Talk of the devil,” Gina muttered veering aside as one of those taller buildings reared up in her face. “Bloody hell that was close.” She checked and reset the alarm to give her more of a safety margin next time.
Gina held the shuttle hovering before the building on its anti-grav and hit the external floods. The powerful lights pierced the storm and lit the ancient brick to reveal empty windows and storm damaged walls. Ice coated everything. She manoeuvred the shuttle to circle the building keeping her altitude constant. She was trying to place the building within the scan image she had displayed on one of her monitors.
“I think it’s this one,” she said to herself tapping a finger upon one of the dark blobs shown on the scan.
If she was correct, she needed to go east from here avoiding two more tallish buildings before she would find the mast. Damn she missed satellite access. She had become used to up linking to a satellite and just using coordinates with her internal navigation systems to find her way around. This treasure hunt primitive bullshit was getting on her nerves already. How the hell did anyone find their way about before GPS?
Gina flew the shuttle while bitching internally and wondered how Eric was getting along. Despite trying to convince herself this wasn’t a competition, she did want to find the prize first. She had an added incentive now too. A weekend on a yacht with Eric would be fun. Chrissie Roberts had introduced her to the fun that could be had on the waters of Snakeholme. They had gone out a time or two with Kate before the regiment deployed to the Shan system and Chris was killed. Poor Chris. Gina missed her.
Eric’s target was the library he had wanted her to find. No doubt there were others on Kushiel, but the one Gina had found for him was in Haverington. Visiting the capital had an added side benefit of pleasing Liz, who was still adamant, despite no supporting evidence, that the A.I would be somewhere in the city. Personally Gina thought she was grasping at straws. Liz was desperate for it to be true to keep Oracle alive. The thought that the A.I and its backup had been destroyed in the bombardment was her ultimate nightmare.
Gina hoped Liz was right even if it meant losing to Eric because she knew the General needed them to succeed. He needed Oracle. Despite everything Liz said, Gina didn’t think it would be that easy. Her slow but methodical idea of mapping Kushiel’s net infrastructure had more chance. She was sure.
Gina found the other two buildings, and suddenly the map in her head had proper landmarks. She triangulated, calculated distances in microseconds, and flew confidently straight to the Infonet station. It was right where it was meant to be. Ha! Maybe this treasure hunt thing wouldn’t be too hard after all.
She studied what her external cameras revealed of the station and its surroundings. The blizzard was at its height, but Hobbs had updated the forecast and predicted it would blow over within the next couple of hours. That was good but not critical. It was -42° outside, but her environmental suit could handle the hard vacuum and absolute zero of space. The APC was easily capable of the local conditions also. No, what concerned her was landing upwards of two thousand tonnes of cargo shuttle on snow and ice.
The station was completely buried, and the surrounding area was featureless white. How deep was the surface snow? Gina hovered just above it to bring the antennas close and switched her attention to what the shuttle’s GPR (Ground Penetrating Radar) was telling her. GPR used electromagnetic radiation (high-frequency polarised radio waves) to penetrate the ground and reveal what was hidden. It was particularly good at it where ice was concerned.
She studied the reflected return signals and grimaced at what she saw. There were voids and cracks all through it. If she landed here, the shuttle would collapse the voids and bury itself. Frowning in annoyance but not really surprised by the setback, she manoeuvred and flew slowly away from the station looking for a good landing site.
* * *
15 ~ Buried Treasure
Woolsery, Kushiel, Kushiel System
Gina listened intently to the shuttle settling upon its landing struts, wincing at the occasion jolt as the ice compressed beneath its weight. She had a death grip on the controls, hardly daring to lower the power to her anti-grav any further. Of course she had to eventually. Barely a third of the shuttle’s weight was yet bearing upon the ice. GPR reassured her that the three metre thick ice was solid all the way down to the frozen ground beneath. It should take the entire weight and more just fine. The half metre of snow on top was immaterial to that.
She lowered anti-grav output still more and felt the shuttle lurch down a few inches then halt at a very shallow angle to starboard. It was nothing really, and she made herself start breathing again and ease her grip upon the VTOL (Vertical Take-Off & Landing) joystick before she crushed it. She sighed when, after a few minutes of sitting still, the shuttle remained stable. She cut anti-grav entirely and the shuttle remained solidly in place. Good.
She quickly shut down her drives and headed into the back. She needed to get a move on. She hadn’t tried to contact Hobbs or Eric, but she was feeling a definite urge to make up some time. For all she knew, Eric had already accessed his objective.
She quickly pulled on her environment suit over her uniform blacks and sealed her helmet. The suit ran its diagnostics and all came up green. She had air and power enough for days, and replacements in the APC to extend that to a week if necessary. She was taking no chances, but seriously, she didn’t expect any problems.
She unlocked and opened the cargo ramp. Wind and snow blasted inside, and her suit’s heater immediately kicked in as the temperature plummeted within the hold. It would do no harm within the shuttle, but she still hurried her steps unclamping the APC’s wheels. No sense letting ice build up inside. Her preparations took only minutes, and she was climbing up into the cab to back out of the hold.
The APC handled the snow beautifully. Plenty of traction in twelve wheel drive. Gina used her helmet comm to close and lock the shuttle’s cargo ramp by remote, and watched it rise into place. No need to run down her suit’s power, she decided, and removed the helmet setting it upon the seat beside her before turning her attention to navigation.
She quickly orientated herself, and using the map on her internal display, put herself on a direct line back to the station. She gunned the engine, and the APC quickly accelerated. Its automatic gearbox changed gears smoothly, propelling the fifteen ton machine as if it were a mere ground car. Eighteen forward gears and three reverse; she doubted anything on Kushiel would faze it
.
The blizzard was really howling now, almost whiteout conditions, but there were no obstructions between the shuttle and the station. She had flown the route and knew it was clear. She turned on every light the APC had and kept going. The suspension was pretty good, but when she hit a pressure ridge in the ice a few minutes later, the APC launched itself into the air and landed bouncing on its balloon tyres. Gina grunted, bouncing in her seat almost losing her grip on the wheel. She laughed at herself. She should have belted in and driven slower, she didn’t want to wreck. She slowed down and took it easier after that.
The trip took less than half an hour.
Gina parked the APC so that its lights illuminated the mast. With no way to enter the building, she planned to bore down through the ice a few metres from it. The ice should be at its thinnest over the station roof, and she had just the thing for making the hole.
The regiment was primarily a front line combat unit, but centuries of unconventional missions had resulted in a few changes. When the Council betrayed General Burgton and mothballed the regiment, he hadn’t taken it lying down. Outwardly it appeared as if he complied, but in truth vipers went underground. Everything they did from then on was handled stealthily. Anything the regiment needed was found either on Snakeholme, or it was requisitioned on the down low—either outright stolen, or more usually diverted to the regiment’s use by clever manipulation of records and computer systems. Only in the last decade or two had the regiment received anything like a budget big enough to maintain itself properly.
President Dyachenko was the first president in a very long time to take a personal interest in vipers. He had authorised funds (funds nominally earmarked for secret research projects) re-tasked to bring the regiment back up to strength, all in secret. The Shan incursion had changed a lot of things. Recruiting was now in the open, and the regiment once again appeared on the books as an operational combat unit. It had a proper Department of Defence approved budget, but the regiment was still commanded by General Burgton and he had not changed how he ran it. He would never again allow his men to be hung out to dry. Anything his regiment needed was supplied directly by him through his people on Snakeholme, or it was supplied by people paid by him. He had moved heaven and earth to make the regiment self-sufficient. That applied to combat situations as well. Need arty? Vipers were trained in the use of all types of artillery, and their gunnery skills were excellent. The regiment maintained its own artillery pieces, both towed and self-propelled. Need space transport? The regiment had ships to transport vipers anywhere they needed to go, and it also had warships to escort those transports all crewed by personnel drawn from the SDF (Snakeholme Defence Force). Need something blown up? Vipers were trained in all types of demolition, and in defusing such things should that come up. Vipers were trained in every conceivable form of combat known, and all of them were pilot trained so that any viper could quickly replace a lost unit. All this, because General George Burgton was one paranoid sonofabitch, and would never again truly trust anyone but his own people to support his regiment long term.
Merkiaari Wars Series: Books 1-3 Page 102
