Turning Point

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Turning Point Page 28

by Lisanne Norman


  “If you’ve nothing better to do, follow their example and get some sleep,” he ordered.

  “Yes, Captain,” Nelson replied.

  “I expect they’ll need you to translate for them, Jo,” said Garras, moving away to join Mito and Anders.

  “It’s nice to know some things in the Universe are constant in this time of change,” Nelson said wryly to Jo as he got to his feet.

  “Pardon?”

  “Superior officers,” he explained. “Captain Garras is no different from Skinner.”

  “Ah,” she said, enlightenment dawning as she, too, ambled off to do Garras’ bidding.

  Having finished their meal, Mito and Anders were now plugging the recorder into the VDU in the central column. Mito settled herself onto the bench seat and switched the module on.

  “Now, let’s see what we’ve got,” she said, loading the magnetic cube. The screen lit up with a series of cursive characters that Anders immediately recognized as Valtegan script.

  “Yeah!” he whooped, “we got it!”

  As they began to congratulate each other, Garras’ quiet voice interrupted them.

  “Well done. Now let’s see if we can understand it.”

  Immediately sobered, Mito called for Jo.

  “Coming,” she replied, scrabbling among her belongings.

  “I’m just trying to find my notebook.”

  She joined Mito on the bench seat and opened her pad. “I’ll have to check the word groupings against those in here. I’ve managed to compile a very small dictionary.”

  Mito leaned forward and unlatched the pull-out desktop for her. “That should make life a little easier,” she said.

  Jo scrutinized the screen, checking in her notepad every so often. She tore out a blank page and began scribbling.

  “Scroll forward,” she said.

  After about half an hour, she stopped and ran her hands through her short dark hair, scrubbing at her eyes.

  “Could I have a coffee or something to keep me awake?” she asked tiredly. “This is very heavy going.”

  Anders heaved himself to his feet and went round to the heater unit.

  “Protein drinks all round,” said Garras from his perch behind Jo. “What have you got so far?”

  “I can only understand about one word in ten, but it looks like part of a draft for a new weekly roster for Base personnel,” she said. “The lists appear to be names, one or two of which I can recognize.

  “The next section seems to be an inventory of stores and provisions, but whether it’s what has arrived on the vessel, or what they need, I can’t tell at present.”

  “I reckon they’ll only have a minimum delivery on that vessel,” said Anders. “Most of the space would have been allocated to the injured.”

  Mito scrolled the page back until she came to a gap between the two separates areas of information.

  “Make a note of these symbols,” she said, tapping the screen. “They look like they might be access codes for a central supply area.”

  Jo scribbled them down as Anders came back with a hot drink for her and Mito. Gratefully, the two women accepted the mugs, Jo leaning forward to recover her text position on the screen. Using her pencil, idly she scrolled forward several lines as she sipped her drink.

  “Wait a minute!” said Mito, grabbing her hand away from the keys. “Look, isn’t that the same pattern as before?”

  Jo consulted her notes. “Yes,” she said, looking up. “What do you think it is?”

  “Could it be a code to log the reports in the central computer?” Mito hazarded.

  “Looks like it,” agreed Anders. “Ring it in your notes and we’ll see if it keeps cropping up.”

  Jo did this, gulping down the remains of her drink as Mito ran the text forward again.

  “Now this looks like a command,” said Anders, pointing to a couple of isolated lines of script. “What could that be for? Can you identify any words?”

  “Yes,” said Jo. “That word says ‘next,’ I don’t know that or that, but that one is ‘due,’ and the last is a time: 21:00 hours in our time.”

  “That could be the takeoff time for the ship, or the next transmission,” said Garras thoughtfully. “Apart from the exchange of personnel, they must make regular status reports to somewhere off planet, if only for fresh supplies. That cargo ship came from somewhere.”

  “I don’t know what you’ve been told about Geshader and Tashkerra,” began Jo, turning away from the screen, “but they’re virtually indoor cities. There are several different dormitories, bars, restaurants, gambling clubs, shops, even a holographic equivalent of entertainment videos, and, of course, the medical facility. All these areas are supplied mainly from off planet, via the Base.”

  “So they would need a regular system of ordering,” said Anders. “How do you know all this? If you don’t mind me asking, where did you fit in?”

  “Exotic entertainment for the officer classes,” Jo replied, her face taking on a hard look. “A well-favored Terran woman could get a limited amount of freedom around the city—freedom to pick up the sort of information both Elise and I got.”

  “It needed to be done,” murmured Garras sympathetically, touching her gently on the shoulder.

  Jo smiled gratefully at him, her face relaxing once more. She turned back to the screen.

  “Tag that as being a possible takeoff or transmission time,” said Mito, scrolling forward again. “Whatever it is, it should show up again on the screen later. I’d find a seat, Captain. It’s going to be a very long night. We’ve got one hell of a lot of data to check before we can be sure of anything.”

  Chapter 11

  The next morning, Kusac, Carrie, and Nelson woke to find the rest of the crew slumped deeply asleep in various uncomfortable positions. Jo had managed to stumble to her bed and lay there fully clothed, clutching her notebook. Mito had fallen asleep over her console, Garras was slumped against the wall on one of the bunks, and Anders had curled himself up in a pile of rugs on the floor.

  “Looks as if they did work most of the night,” observed Carrie, throwing her blanket over the sleeping woman.

  Nelson wrapped his as best he could around Mito then went to give Kusac a hand easing Garras into a more comfortable position. He hardly stirred as they covered him up.

  “How about we visit the groundcar for breakfast and leave them to sleep?” suggested Nelson, thumbing the hatch open.

  “Sounds fine,” said Carrie as she and Kusac followed him.

  They caught the aroma of bacon and eggs cooking as they crossed over to the groundcar. Davies was already outside trying to landscape the skid marks leading from the vehicle to the water’s edge.

  Nelson stepped in through the open hatch.

  “Good morning. Is there enough for three more hungry people?”

  “Certainly,” said Peterson, wielding a spatula. “Plenty for all,” he said expansively. He peered past the three of them. “Where are the others?”

  “They’re still asleep,” replied Kusac from the opening. “They worked through the night on the recordings so we’re leaving them to wake up in their own time.”

  “Sensible,” said Skinner. “There’s no point in rushing things now, and tired people make mistakes.”

  Guynor rose to his feet, tail flicking spasmodically, ears plastered flat and to the side. Pushing past them, he stalked outside.

  Kusac exchanged a glance with Carrie, then they climbed into the interior. He looked round curiously as they settled themselves next to Richard and Captain Skinner. Basically, it was a standard planetary surface, people-moving vehicle. The control panels were in front of and at the side of the pilot’s seat. In fact, that seat was the only one in the craft. Judging from the floor, the rest had been ripped out to provide extra space for the Terrans.

  Peterson sat to one side of the hatch, his stove set on top of one of the several crates that lay in the vehicle. Some were being used as seats by those eating breakfast.


  “Any idea if they got the access codes?” inquired Skinner, taking the plate that Peterson held out to him.

  “The Captain ordered me to turn in,” said Nelson apologetically, “but before I did, we knew that their recording had worked and that Jo was able to make some sense out of what they had.”

  Skinner sighed. “I suppose we can wait,” he said, skewering a piece of bacon with his fork.

  It was approaching midday before the sleepers stirred.

  “Kusac! Guynor!” they heard Garras roar as he emerged from the pod. “Why the hell didn’t you wake us sooner? We’ve work to do!”

  Guynor and Kusac came at a run, skidding to a halt in front of their Captain. They were closely followed by Vanna.

  “Guynor, fix some breakfast for us. Kusac, you and the girl finish working on your illusions, or whatever you call them. I want to move into the Base tonight.”

  Kusac nodded then headed off back to the other. side of the islet where he and Carrie were working out of sight of the others.

  “Where’s Captain Skinner?” Garras asked Vanna. “We need to discuss backup tactics in case we have to get that pair out of there in a hurry.”

  Everyone apart from Mito and Anders was now in the clearing between the two craft.

  “You’ve got what you needed?” asked Skinner, jumping down from the groundcar hatch and striding across to him.

  Garras sat down on one of the pieces of log that served as a seat.

  “We’ve got the codes and Mito has nearly finished the ‘burglar’ program,” he said. “There was even a bonus. They picked up part of the new staff roster, including the night shifts. We’ve been able to plan an optimum time to go in.”

  “What about the access codes for the transmitter?” asked Skinner.

  “That we do have. The night before last, they made a routine transmission requesting medical supplies. We have that code.”

  “Then we have everything we need.”

  Garras’ ears twitched as he frowned.

  “Not everything. We are having to extrapolate what we hope will be a valid command for the transmitter to start its Search pattern. Mito is working on it at the moment.”

  “We’ll just have to trust it works,” said Skinner. He hesitated before continuing.

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to insist Carrie doesn’t go. This mission is far too dangerous to involve her,” he said with finality.

  Garras’ ears went flat and his tail began to twitch like an independent entity. Even to Skinner it was obvious he was displeased.

  “There are only two people who can go,” he said. “To get into the base without arousing suspicion and send out that signal, we need the combined abilities of two Telepaths. It has to be Carrie, there is no one else.”

  “Impossible,” stated Skinner flatly.

  “We’ve been over this before. I’ve told you the nature of their Link. This task requires the extra power that they can only generate together. We need to send in two people. One of them has to look like a Valtegan guard, the other has to be a Terran female.”

  “Carrie’s totally untrained in even the most basic self defense techniques. Jo would be better for this, and she has experience in dealing with the Valtegans. Surely Carrie could ... assist ... Kusac with his deception from outside the perimeter, in safety.”

  “You don’t understand, my friend,” said Garras. “Both of them are needed to deal with any Valtegans who get too curious. We can’t go around shooting guards or knocking them out. When they failed to make routine reports or arrive at their destinations, it would only call attention to our presence. We need two hours, maybe three, of undisturbed time to make that transmission. There is no other way.”

  “Carrie is one of my people. I won’t have her involved in this enterprise. The odds are too high against them getting out alive even if they manage to make that transmission,” said Skinner angrily.

  “She is a civilian and as such is not under your jurisdiction,” said Garras less patiently, getting to his feet. “When the Khalossa arrives, Carrie will have to leave Keiss with us. She will be needed for questioning regarding Kusac’s Telepathic Link with her. There is also a matter of a formal hearing and our authorities will not be denied her presence. The matter of her affiliations will soon be out of our hands and in that of the diplomats.

  “You wouldn’t jeopardize not only our plan to rid Keiss of the Valtegans, but future treaties—most advantageous to your people, believe me—for the sake of one girl? This is war, Skinner. You, as a military man, must be as aware as I am of the hard fact that one life is expendable when it is in the balance against so many.”

  “I know, dammit!” said Skinner angrily. “I also have to think of her father. When Earth gets here I’ll be drafted back into the military, leaving him, Peter Hamilton, as the colony head on Keiss. Just having lost one daughter a matter of two months ago, what will it do to him to lose the other? He’s going to have one hell of a lot to say about us risking his daughter on this mission. We can’t afford to let her go.”

  “We can’t afford not to,” said Carrie quietly from behind the knot of conflict. “Unless I go, the message can’t be sent. If it isn’t sent, then we place not only the thousand Sholans on the Khalossa at risk, but also the Sholan worlds, Earth, and the rest of the Alliance. I think that this is too high a price for the safety of one person, don’t you?

  “Captain Garras, I’m going. If I’m a civilian, I can volunteer, can’t I?”

  With a sidelong look at Skinner, Garras nodded.

  “Good. Then it’s settled,” she said. “Now will you two stop your bloody arguing and get down to discussing details?” With that, she stalked off back among the trees.

  Garras and Skinner turned to Kusac, who spread his hands expressively.

  “Don’t blame me,” he said, backing off hurriedly. “We couldn’t help but overhear you.”

  A stunned silence remained after Kusac left.

  Vanna began to laugh. “I told you that one was strong-minded,” she said to no one in particular. “Manipulate a mind like that, Guynor? I’d like to see anyone try! Anyway, it’s academic. In risking Kusac, we risk Carrie, too, whether or not she goes.”

  As she’d intended, it eased the tension and Garras resumed his seat.

  Skinner looked across at him, a rueful expression on his face.

  “Carrie’s her father’s daughter,” he said. “I’ve had some rows with Peter in my time and doubtless will again,” he sighed. “Well, it looks like she’s taken the decision out of my hands, Garras. Carry on. This seems to be your show. You’re the ones with all the answers.”

  “Not all of them, my friend,” said Garras. “We’re working together.”

  Guynor had been hovering at his elbow for several minutes. Finally, the smell of food drew his attention. He held out his hand and was given a plate of warmed up stew and a mug of c’shar.

  Garras eyed the stew then his First Officer quizzically.

  “It was all I could think of that was quick,” said Guynor, retreating hurriedly back to the pod.

  “We’ll move out at the twenty-third hour, zero two hours your time,” he said to Skinner between mouthfuls of food.

  “We’ll need all personnel aboard the groundcar so any nonessential items will be left in the pod. We can always retrieve them at a later date.” He looked over at Skinner again.

  “Can you go over our munitions with Guynor and work out a distribution of weapons? We have some explosives as well as longer range energy rifles. He’ll fill you in on how they work. I want Carrie and Kusac both carrying our hand guns.”

  As he turned round to place the empty plate on the ground he saw Carrie beside the pod.

  An exclamation from Mito drew Skinner’s attention. Following her gaze, he noticed Carrie, too.

  Mito reached out to touch the dress she was wearing.

  “Where did you get that?” she asked. “It’s lovely.” She touched the robe only to have her hand pass right thro
ugh it and come up against something solid. With a small yowl of fright, she leapt backward.

  “It’s all right, Mito,” Carrie reassured her. “It’s only our illusion. Do you think we’ll get past the guards safely?”

  Garras sat up slowly.

  “Gods,” breathed Vanna, walking round behind her, “I wouldn’t have believed it possible!”

  “We?” asked Garras.

  Everyone experienced a slight blurring of their vision and then Carrie appeared clad in her usual shirt and trousers with Kusac standing slightly to one side behind her.

  “We,” she said.

  “I thought it wiser not to suddenly appear as a Valtegan in the middle of our camp,” said Kusac, grinning.

  “A sensible precaution,” said Garras, picking up his mug. “You two never cease to amaze me. If you can maintain that illusion for any length of time you should have no problem with the guards.”

  “We can maintain it long enough to get into the Base complex,” said Kusac. “After that ...” He shrugged. “We’ll have to use stealth. At least we can tell Telepathically when anyone is coming.”

  “You’ll be armed,” said Garras.

  As Kusac opened his mouth to object, Garras stilled him with a gesture.

  “No arguments. You’re taking firearms and you’ll use them if you have to. That’s an order. I want you out of there alive. I’ll run both of you through a crash course in how to use the energy pistols when I’m finished here.

  “Anders.” He called the Terran over. “You’ll be piloting the groundcar. This is what we plan to do.”

  Anders joined the semicircle round Garras, crouching down beside Carrie.

  Garras leaned forward and began to draw in the dirt with a claw tip.

  “We’ll exit the vehicle near the edge of the swamp, under cover of the trees, leaving Kusac and Carrie to be flown to the Base. You’ll then land as close to the gates as possible, leaving the hatch open and facing away from the guards. That way the rest of us have instant access if we need it.

  “You two,” he pointed at Carrie and Kusac, “will then proceed into the main building. The rest is up to you.”

 

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