The crew filed out of the room, Fox flashing a reassuring smile at Clarke, leaving him alone with Blake. He walked over to the viewport, the image flickering briefly, showing a view of the surface outside the ship. A solitary figure, Hooke, was walking out into the wilderness, a body bag slung over his shoulder with a sampling shovel in his hand.
“He might as well bury himself with the others,” Blake said with a sigh. “One of the worst cases of survivors' syndrome I've ever seen. Compound that with being stranded alone down here for weeks, thinking that he was the only human for hundreds of thousands of light-years, and it's amazing that he didn't have a complete breakdown.”
“Is there anything we can do for him?”
“You mean aside from putting him out of his misery?” she replied. “I'm a paramedic with some medical pretensions, John, nothing more than that. He needs a top psychologist, not someone who took a single class a few years ago. Maybe a catharsis of some kind might snap him out of it, but the way things stand, he'd almost certainly get a medical discharge and a ticket to long-term counseling if we were back home.”
“That's not an option,” Clarke said. “We've got to find some way to break through to him.”
“You can't save everyone,” Blake replied.
Looking back at the table, Clarke said, “I didn't mean to lose my temper like that.”
“Given the circumstances, I'd say you had the patience of a saint. She seems determined to push all of your buttons as hard as she can, regardless of the effect. You ever meet her before this mission?”
“Not that I'm aware of,” he said. “She was a senior while I was a freshman, so I suppose our paths must have crossed at some point, but I don't remember even speaking to her before. Maybe it's just me. She probably thinks that she should be in command. She could be right about that.”
“You don't really mean that. With her attitude, she's going to have a hell of a time passing her Commissioning Boards. They listen to senior enlisted, remember, and I hate to think what sort of a report Sergeant Fox is going to submit.” She smirked, then said, “Though I must ask Lieutenant Harper to get hold of a copy for me. I could do with a laugh.”
“The worst part is that she is absolutely right,” he replied. “I have ordered an officer under my command to commit an act of treason, offering covert information to the enemy.”
“As part of a deception, John, and a damn fine piece of intelligence work.” Stepping in front of him, she glared into his face, and said, “Don't listen to her. Listen to me, or to Fox. You're doing fine, Captain.”
“What?”
“This is a starship, isn't it, and you are in command, right? Might want to start getting used to the idea.” She paused, then added, “I'll go down to what's left of Sickbay and see if I can find something in the medical database for Hooke. Maybe I can find some sort of tailored sedative.”
“Good idea,” Clarke said, as she walked away.
“Of course it is,” she replied, stepping through the door. “It was mine.”
He smiled as she left, then turned back to the viewport. Captain Clarke. Crazy.
Chapter 13
Harper walked carefully down the ramp, flashlight in hand, Carpenter leading the way into the labyrinthine alien complex. At the bottom, in what they had begun to call the Vault, lights flashed around as the engineering team worked to install the equipment they'd brought down from Alamo, a few holdalls scavenged from the Science department that could open up the secrets of the base.
“Amazing,” she said, looking around. “Amazing.”
“I know,” Carpenter said, a sad smile on her face. “I could spend years, decades down here and still barely scratch the surface. You think there will ever be a chance for a full-scale expedition?”
“Depends if we find a safe way home,” she replied. “If we can find a reliable route back to the Confederation, there are going to be a lot of ships out this way in the near future. Which depends very much on what we find down here.” Her communicator chirped, and she pulled it out of her pocket, saying, “Harper here.”
“Pavel here.”
“You feeling any better?”
“Turned out that all I needed was a few hours' sack time. We've just about got everything organized up here for the moment, but I don't think our friends out in the desert are going to leave us alone for long. I'm working on a few ways to hold them up, but they've got the numbers on their side. If they'd been a little smarter, a little quicker, we'd all be in custody right now. Or dead.”
“Have you managed to make contact with Alamo?”
“Waldheim's laid a network of satellites behind it that have done a fantastic job of blocking all signals, and we can't get a message laser to work through this soup of an atmosphere. We're tracking them on sensors, though, and I think we're going to have at least forty hours down here before we need to start worrying about pick-up.”
“Forty hours?” Carpenter said.
“Less than that, given that you'll have to pull everyone out of the tunnels in good time.” Salazar paused, then said, “I know just how much ground you have to cover down there, but we're running this operation on the tightest margin I've ever seen. We just don't have the time to do a thorough job, and I doubt we'll get more than one chance for a pickup.”
“Agreed, damn it,” Harper replied. She reached down to her watch, tapping a series of controls to set up a countdown. “Forty hours mark, and we'll be home. Or you'll have to leave without us.”
With a soft chuckle, Salazar said, “You really think we're going to do that? Oh, Lombardo managed to pick out what looks like an alien settlement out in the desert. A lot smaller than this one, and we didn't have a chance to get a good look with deep-radar, I'm afraid. It's just over a hundred miles away, so unless we can get hold of some transport, I don't think we're going to get to see it.”
“Can you send down the images?” Carpenter asked, leaning over the communicator. “I'd like to take a look for myself.”
“Already done,” Salazar replied. “I've sent them down to your datapad. One more thing. We're having trouble getting a signal as far down as the Vault. Go any deeper, and there's no way we're going to be able to contact you. Nor can I realistically spare anyone from the defense perimeter for a rescue team.”
“Which means we're going into an unknown alien city from tens of thousands of years in the distant past without support, the possibility of rescue, or even the opportunity to call up for help. With a forty-hour time limit on the clock.”
“That's about the idea, I'm afraid.” He paused, then said, “Kris, are you able to speak privately?”
Raising her hands, Carpenter said, “I get the hint,” and walked down the ramp.
“We're alone, Pavel.”
“I didn't want Susan to hear this, but I've set a series of shaped charges at the entrance to the city. If I've done the job right, it'll collapse the entrance without causing too much damage, but I can't guarantee that it won't bring down the tunnels. We don't have a good enough picture of the local geology.” He paused, and said, “I'll hold off on the trigger as long as I can, but if there is something down there, we can't let Waldheim have access to it. Not given the potential strategic advantages at stake. I'll try and give you a warning if I can, but...”
“I understand,” she replied. “I'd have done exactly the same in your place.”
“Of course, there might be another way up to the surface.”
“Not that it would make much difference. Unless we could bring down a lot more equipment from Alamo, the life expectancy of any colony on the surface wouldn't be promising. To say the least.” She paused, then said, “Do what you have to, Pavel. And let's hope that it won't come to that.”
“Agreed. Keep an open channel as long as you can. We might manage intermittent contact even when you get deeper. Good luck.”
Ha
rper placed the communicator back into her pocket, flicking the switch to link it to her datapad, and walked quickly down towards Carpenter. She looked at the intricate pictograms on the walls as she descended, still astounded by the sheer quality of the workmanship, a work of art on a monolithic scale that hadn't been seen by any living eyes for thousands of years.
“Let me guess,” Carpenter said as Harper caught her. “There's a bomb on the surface ready to bury both us and this site forever.”
“Something like that,” she replied. “The demolition team up top is good, though. They won't do any more damage than they must.”
“Do you have any conception how much work must have gone into this site? Hundreds, perhaps thousands of millions of man-hours of labor. Construction on a scale we can't imagine. And we're talking about destroying all of it for a momentary advantage.” She sighed, and added, “The worst part is that I'm not even sure he's doing the wrong thing.”
“I know that he hates the idea as much as you do, Susan. He won't push the button unless he doesn't have a choice.”
“Yes he will,” she replied. “As soon as the last shuttle lifts off. Because he won't have a choice, unless we can be absolutely sure that there is nothing of tactical use down here.” With a sigh, she continued, “And if that is so, then a lot of people have already died for nothing, and this whole mission is a complete waste of time. I honestly don't know what to hope for.”
“A way home,” Harper said. “That's what we're out here to find.”
“In forty hours?” Carpenter said, shaking her head. “There are hundreds of miles of tunnels down here. We could spend forty weeks in these catacombs and still not cover it all, especially with the limited resources we've got.” The tunnel started to open up, and they walked down into the Vault, the sheer scale of the cavern taking Harper's breath away as she looked around, spotlights ranging about the ceiling as the cameras struggled to take a picture of the sight, to record it for future generations. With a little luck, they'd be able to explore it in virtual form, even if they were millions of light-years away.
A group of technicians were busy completing the build, a pile of equipment pieced together, sensor relays strung for hundreds of meters in every direction to form a tangled grid. Corporal Weber looked up as they approached, and gestured for them to join her, waving a datapad in the air.
“We're just about ready,” she said. “If we've got this right, then we ought to get a complete picture of the entire tunnel network in one shot.” She grimaced, and added, “We'll have to. This is going to take a lot of power, and we don't have much left in these batteries. I won't promise perfection, but we should get a map of at least most of the tunnel system.”
“Proceed at your discretion, Corporal,” Carpenter said, eagerly moving to the monitor screen. The activation was an anticlimax, the brief flick of a switch sending a pulse of data streaming into the system, red lights flashing on as the power levels dropped below safe limits, the grid shutting down as fast as it activated.
“That's it,” Weber said. “A couple of minutes for interpretation, and we should have a pretty good picture for you.” The three of them watched the screen as an image of the tunnel network slowly built up, layer upon layer flashing onto the monitor. All around them, the technicians started to pack up the equipment, ready to be taken back to the surface.
“That's it,” Carpenter said, narrowing her eyes to get a look at the complicated network. She pulled out a portable holoprojector, placing it carefully on the floor before activating it, and suddenly the three of them were surrounded by a forest of tunnels and chambers, a tangled mess that seemed to have no logical pattern, no obvious design.
Looking across at the monitor, Harper said, “This doesn't follow the rocks. There are some mineral veins down here, but they were ignoring them.” She paused, then added, “It doesn't amount to much anyway. Some copper, iron. Nothing worth this level of development.”
“This was a settlement, a city,” Carpenter replied.
“No,” Weber said. “Sorry, but no. I don't care how alien these things were, they can't have lived without a sewerage system, water reclamation, or anything like that.”
“True,” Carpenter said, blushing.
Taking a deep breath, Harper replied, “Not to put a damper on this expedition, but it doesn't matter what it is, at least not at the moment. I can't see any sort of central location, no focus point. The tunnels all seem essentially the same, and there aren't any other structures the size of the Vault.” Looking around at the pictograms, she added, “Could this be what we're looking for?”
“We couldn't have that sort of luck,” Weber said.
“It's possible, I suppose,” Carpenter replied, “but we haven't seen anything that looks astronomical to me. If this does match some of the writing we've found in sites back home, then there is a chance that we might eventually be able to translate it. I've got the recorders working on getting high-resolution images of the whole site, and we should have that ready in the time allotted. Though it could take years of computer time to decode it, and a team of analysts that we just don't have out here.”
“We've got a little under forty hours to come up with some sort of miracle,” Harper replied. “We knew going in that this wasn't going to be easy, but we've got to find at least some sort of lead. Corporal, run another filter through, see if you can pick up anything at all. There must be something down here.” She paused, then turned to Carpenter, and asked, “Did you find any sign that Monitor had been here?”
“Nothing,” the archaeologist replied.
“That's strange. Unless the wormhole exit moved, then they must have come through here, and I can't imagine that Maggie would have flown past this planet without taking a closer look. As far as we know, they wouldn't have had any opposition in the system, either. They'd have had a much easier time than we are.”
“As soon as we arrived in the system, we ran a full check for any satellites, any beacons. We didn't find a thing. And we haven't found any traces on the surface, either.” Carpenter paused, then said, “I've looked at Monitor's crew roster, and it's light on the sciences. I suppose it is possible that they simply didn't find any sign of this base.”
“No,” Weber said. “Even if they didn't find this one, we know that Waldheim found something, out there in the deep desert, and they did it without any specialist help at all. If they could do it, I'm sure that Monitor could.”
Nodding, Harper replied, “There's still something missing here.” Pointing at the bottom of the grid, she said, “That's interesting. Heads off out of sensor range.”
“Kris, that's got to be at least two miles down.”
“Yes, but it's heading in the direction of the other site.”
“A hundred miles away,” Carpenter said, shaking her head.
“Maybe, but if nothing else, at least it gives us a goal, something to aim for. Though we'll struggle to get down that far in time.” She paused, then said, “If we can't come up with something concrete in the next few minutes, we'll have to just head down into the tunnels.”
“Blind?”
“At least we'll have a map. We shouldn't get lost. And I'll take some chance over no chance any day of the week. Standing around here talking isn't going to find us a way home.”
“Wait a minute,” Weber said. “I've found something. There's an organic residue trace, about a mile down from here. Not much, but it could be a body.” Turning to Carpenter, she added, “I think we might have found our lead.”
“Any dating?” Harper asked.
“We don't have enough data to tell, not yet,” Carpenter said, “but I can only think of one way to gather it.” Tracing a finger through the tunnels, she said, “As far as I can figure it, we're looking at a twelve-mile hike to get down there. Four hours, under the conditions. Well within the margin of error.”
Weber looked at the tw
o of them, and said, “You do realize that what the implications of this little discovery are, don't you? There's something down there dangerous enough that someone died, and without anyone being able to retrieve his body. I very much doubt that our little friend passed away of old age. Someone or something killed him, and for all we know, it happened last week.”
“Or it could have been a thousand years ago,” Carpenter said. “The air is dry enough that the conditions are good for mummification.”
“I take it,” Harper said, a smile on her face, “that you are suggesting that you should come down with us. Armed for bear.”
“I had something like that in mind,” the veteran trooper replied. “Lance-Corporal Matthews can cover for me up on the surface, and unless we manage to find what we're looking for, nothing up there is going to matter that much anyway.”
“I don't have any objection,” Carpenter said. “One more pair of eyes is probably a good idea, and that long tunnel brings up another point.”
“That there could be a force heading towards us right now, working its way through the caverns.” Harper's eyes widened, and she tapped the monitor, and said, “We've only got strong resolution for a few miles. For all we know, there's a squad working its way up to us as we speak.” Pulling out her communicator, she said, “Harper to Salazar.”
Salazar's tinny voice, crackling with static, replied, “Go ahead. Signal strength lousy.”
“We've found a tunnel that leads to the dig site out in the desert. My suspicion is that the enemy forces will use it to attempt to infiltrate our base.” She paused, and added, “We've got a lead, Pavel, but you're going to have to put troops down here in the Vault. It's the nearest thing we can find to a bottleneck.”
Through the waves of interference, she could just make out a sigh, and Salazar replied, “I'll see if I can spare a fire team to keep an eye down there. I take it you're still planning to head off into the darkness, anyway?”
“We are,” Harper replied. “I don't think we've got much choice, do we?”
Battlecruiser Alamo: Vault of Eternity Page 13
