"No offense Wetty, but you could beat Centron in a game of chess so your analysis of the game does not necessarily mean I see even one way to get out of his trap."
Wetmouth hugged Mao from behind. "Oh you big oaf, don't sell yourself short. You play very well!"
Mao blushed and smiled at the masked girl. "That means a lot to me!"
"I know how you feel Mao." Krabbel said. "I did play against her. It never took her more than three minutes to defeat me."
Wetmouth patted one of Krabbel's legs. "You, my eight-legged friend, have great potential. I bet you could become a grandmaster."
Krabbel balled his legs around his body, as he often did when he liked something."Your compliment is perhaps a bit exaggerated but it still makes me proud!"
I sipped my lemonade and observed Elfi. "What in Odin's name are you doing to Shaka's hair?"
"I put extensions in. He wanted long hair!"
"I think you wanted it and talked him into it! He now looks like Prince Valiant, a very dark Prince Valiant, that is."
"Who is that?" Shaka wanted to know.
"An ancient picture story about a Viking prince, I loved it as a kid. He wore his hair much like Sarans do."
Shaka called for a mirror and looked at his reflection after the Computronic established a reflective field before him. "I think I look rather handsome!"
"So do I!" Elfi agreed. "I can do the same to you, Eric!"
"Maybe some other time, I doubt long hair will be on my priority list for a while. I had long hair but they made me cut mine short during the first year."
Hans finally came out of the showers; he too was no longer bald-headed. He had hair in the same style as Shaka, except his was blond.
"Loki the trickster was very busy today!" I exclaimed. "What in the world is going on here? If that continues we will all look like sisters and brothers!"
"Do you think such a haircut would make me look like a brother of yours?" asked Krabbel.
"Naa, you don't need a haircut, you already look like a brother of mine," I replied.
"You aren't serious!"
"But I am! All Vikings are born with eight legs and eight eyes, we just cut them off during the first year, so we fit into our breeches, it's an old custom."
Wetmouth laughed at Krabbel. "Go right ahead and get a wig of mine, I am sure no one will ever be able to tell us apart!"
The Arachnoid stretched out one of his legs. "Well maybe I should dye my leg hairs pink too, what do you think?"
Har-Hi shook his head. "Not that there is anything wrong with pink, but red is the royal color! You should dye them red!"
Our conversation was interrupted by Lt. Clusen entering our dorm.
Shaka saw him first and yelled, "Officer on deck!"
"Ah the Olafson Gang is completely assembled."
I had the strong notion that something fishy was going on.
He smiled like a cat that caught a fish. "You are to report to Hangar Deck 7 and with standard field gear at 05:00 hrs tomorrow. You are to meet a research team on a garden world for a routine survey mission."
After saying that, he left.
I was certain I heard him whistling while the door closed behind him.
"Even though he has cut short our R&R, that mission doesn't sound too bad," Mao concluded. "I expected him to send us to the roughest extreme world for our field test."
Har-Hi crossed his arms. "I am not so sure about that. Lt. Clusen hates us; I bet he went out of his way to find an especially difficult task."
"Or simply a boring one, so we hardly gather any points." Mao suggested.
"I tend to agree with Har-Hi. Something smells wrong about it. I heard him whistle!" I said.
Wetmouth opened her locker. "How standard do you think we should pack?" I shrugged and said, "We can't prepare for every possibility, but I think we'd better request weapons and maybe they'll allow Destroyer suits to be issued."
A Lieutenant we had never seen before acted surprised to see us when we reported to him, arriving at the designated hangar deck. He called for a field screen and shrugged. "Everything looks all right. Those orders came from Fleet HQ," he mumbled, checking the readout. Then he gestured towards a D14 Shuttle and said, "Your equipment is loaded and the pilot is standing by."
"Sir, would it be permitted to request Destroyer suits?" I asked.
Clusen appeared in the shuttle door and stepped down the short ramp. He said to us, "No, I cannot authorize Destroyer suits; your equipment is already loaded!"
"Your orders are to make contact with the research team on the planet. After you make contact, you are then to assist them to collect specimens and make a standard planetary survey. Furthermore, you must deliver the equipment requested by the research team. Now get aboard, we only have a short launch window! The Captain would be very angry if he had to change flight plans because of you!" We boarded the long-range shuttle; the hatch had barely closed behind us when the shuttle quickly accelerated down the launch tube.
The shuttle was a plain cargo version and had only rudimentary seats in its cargo bay, other than us the cargo consisted of two standard containers. The flight deck was separated from the cargo bay by a door and the red light above it indicated that it was locked.
"I think we just walked into a trap!" I said.
"Sure feels that way." Har-Hi agreed with a gloomy note in his voice.
The flight only took two hours and I could feel the characteristic movements of a shuttle entering a planet's atmosphere.
At that point the shuttle's intercom came on for the first time since we had boarded it. "Here we are," the unseen pilot said, "Planet Quagmire Bog." He then added while the intercom was still active. "I sure wonder why they sent a team of Midshipmen to this cursed world, but then I am only a shuttle pilot. Anyway, I have to return to the Devi right away. I'll drop you off at the old campsite and unload your equipment. I sure don't want to stay there longer than I have to and I do have orders to return as fast as possible."
"Sir, can you double check that we are supposed to be here?" I asked.
"Already did that, because I could not believe they sent me down here without an armed escort to drop off Midshipmen. However, orders were confirmed to drop you and the equipment off right here."
"Can you do us a favor, Sir, and contact Captain Harris and tell him where we are?"
"Sure will! Now get out and let me drop the containers."
We stepped on a Duro-Plast swimming platform that was surrounded by brackish greenish water. The water belonged to a foul stinking lake, the shores heavily forested.
A robot activated and carried a smaller box onto the platform, put it down and returned into the shuttle.
The shuttle lifted off, turned on its end and the two containers slid out its back and splashed into the water, close to the platform, almost dousing us with the muddy green water.
The shuttle then accelerated fast and disappeared into the cloudy sky.
Beginning of Book 3
Eric Olafson: Third Year
Chapter 1: Quagmire Bog
I looked around. The platform was perhaps 50m in diameter with two prefab buildings made of the same material at its center. Despite the nearly indestructible Duro-Plast the structure was made of, everything looked old and abandoned and in dire need of repair.
"Now what," asked Mao?
"Let's find the research team." I said, somehow knowing we would not find anyone.
The buildings were rectangular-shaped and about 10m long and wide and six meters tall. Like the surrounding platform they were covered with a fine, greenish substance, most likely some kind of moss or algae. Larger plants, tufts of grass and yellowish-colored flowers grew in nooks and corners.
Only one of the buildings had windows but they were too dirty to see through.
"Har-Hi, Mao, Elfi and Cirruit, check the other structure. Draw your weapons and proceed with caution and we'll check this one!"
Wetty scanned the sensor plate with her PDD an
d said, "It is set to standard Union biometrics, it is not code locked." Just as she said it, the door opened with a wet sounding noise, gobs of the green algae material dripping from its frame. Dry musky-smelling air wafted in our direction.
I called again, but no one answered so I went in, my blaster ready.
I entered a common room with a table, chairs and a small portable serv-matic on one side. Everything was covered with a fine layer of dust. A cup and a plate on the table were covered with dried fungus.
I was pretty sure no one else was here, so we checked the rest of the building. There were three bedrooms with personal belongings strewn around. Uniforms, coveralls and other items of clothing were stored in the personal lockers of each room. The third room appeared most disorderly; the simple non-matic bed was unmade. A PDD lay on the floor and some data-film magazines of various publications along with other reading material sat on the nightstand.
Krabbel appeared in the bedroom door and said, "I think I found one of the occupants!"
He led us up a short flight of stairs. There were more personal rooms and an office with a GalNet terminal. The GalNet terminal was damaged with a blaster shot and a mummified human was sitting in a corner of the room on the floor still holding the blaster which he apparently had also used to blow half of his head away. The corpse wore the uniform of the Science Corps and the nametag read: "Dr. Hereford."
Wetmouth knelt down and examined the remains closer. "That is an old uniform; this style is no longer used. The last time Science Corps uniforms with blue and gray panels were issued was about 50 years ago."
Shaka picked up a PDD from the desk and activated it. He had to clean the readout window. "It looks like I found the dead man's personal log."
"Does he say why he committed suicide?"
"The screen displays the dead man's name, Dr. Samuel Hereford, but I can't make the PDD do anything else. I believe the memory is damaged, maybe Cirruit can fix it."
After searching the rest of the building and finding nothing noteworthy, we went back outside to meet the others.
Har-Hi and his team had also finished their survey and the tall Dai came over and thumbed towards the building he had just come from. "It appears this was the lab and the storage facility of this research post.
"We found the remains of a badly decomposed body. Whoever he was, he was murdered, and the vibro-machete that was used to kill him is still embedded in his chest.
"The lab is somewhat trashed but there is enough food to last us at least 20 years."
Cirruit added, "The power cell is fine and I think I can fix the water recycler, it's just clogged. The post-Computronic has been sabotaged and is badly damaged, most likely beyond repair."
I handed him the PDD we had found. "Do you think you can fix that? It might help us find some answers."
He took the PDD and began to check it right away. After a few moments he made a frustrated sound and said with an apologetic tone, "Sorry, Eric but the thing is useless, the memory crystal is gone, someone took it out. Whatever was recorded on it is gone."
"Someone took the crystal, which takes some doing. Someone really wanted to cover his or her tracks," Elfi concluded.
"There are seven beds used, 12 rooms and only two bodies. There is a possibility the killer might still be out there." Hans added.
"Looks like we are stranded on a planet with a murder mystery, so what are we doing now?" Krabbel asked me.
"We do what we came here to do. Cirruit and Shaka, get the equipment working. Har-Hi, Wetmouth and Elfi you make recordings of the bodies and the crime scenes and then see if you find some container we can put the remains in. Hans and Mao you are going to check the food supplies and prepare dinner. Krabbel you go on top of that building and take a blaster. Keep an eye, well better all eight eyes, on our surroundings."
Mao grinned. "You got a knack for this command stuff. I would have never thought of all that!"
Wetmouth's mask was as unreadable as ever, but I knew her long enough now to know she was smiling. "That's why he's in charge. Believe me; even I am amazed how he does that, too."
"You made him blush!" laughed Mao.
I grumbled. "It was you who picked me! So get to work! There is a lot to do!"
"What are you going to do?" asked Wetmouth.
"I am going to unpack and see what kind of equipment we've got in those containers! I am hoping for Quasimodos."
My friends went to do the chores I had just handed out. This was the first time I was really in charge of them. Aboard the Devastator being the dorm senior was more or less just a title and I had never done the things I was supposed to do in that position, namely checking the lockers, the proper cleaning of the dorm and inspecting the state of dress, but thinking back I realized I did almost all the time tell them what to do. Even though we were in the military and others telling you what to do came with the job, I wondered if my friends resented me for this. Not that I ever had the slightest suspicion, those eight beings were my friends on a level that was hard to put in words.
While I was thinking all this, I went back to the edge of the floating platform where we had first arrived and where the robot had placed the foot locker-sized box.
The box was hermetically sealed, but its ID lock recognized me and considered me authorized. I swung open the lid and right on top of what it contained was a PDD. The system came on right away and a Fleet Commodore sitting in an office was displayed on its 2D screen. The man began by saying: "Briefing and orders for operation second-look. Issued by Special Mission Command Annapolis and authorized by me, Commodore Decker. Following orders and instructions are for you, Lt. Strasenburgh, commanding your 12-member specialist team and an additional attachment of Marines. Before we come to your orders let me brief you on the planet Quagmire Bog.
"Recent scholar research indicates that the planet was first cataloged and surveyed by the Saresii over 8,000 years ago. The Saresii lost two survey teams on the planet and declared the planet dangerous and inhospitable.
"The Saran rediscovered it in 2100 and also lost contact to a survey team and a subsequent expedition to rescue the first disappeared as well. The Sarans made a third attempt to find out what happened to their people in 3200 and yet again all contact to the planet team was lost.
"The Saran attempts and the loss of their survey teams came up in a conference of the Science Council in 3500 and it sent a team of scientists to investigate. At first, everything appeared all right, but after two weeks all contact stopped. So it was decided to send a team of Marines to find out what happened.
"The Marines found nine out of the original 12 scientists dead. All murdered, so it had the appearance of it having been committed by members of their own team, not local life forms. Even after extensive searching the three other scientists could not be found and finally declared MIA. The planet was placed under quarantine until more research could be done.
"In 5048 a team of scientists under Dr. Herford went back to Quagmire to investigate the planet and the incidents again. After almost three months of eventless research and continuous contact, all contact was lost again. We fear Hereford and his team fell victim to whatever danger lurks on that planet. However, Fleet Command wants to know what happened and what it is that keeps us from investigating this world.
"The planet is nitrogen oxygen garden world with a moderate climate and open water. Such planets are rare and valuable. The star system is strategically close to the Nul-Nul Empire and in the very likely upcoming conflict, it could serve as an important base.
"You are an experienced Navy officer and along with you, are six fully-equipped Marines to assist you. Your orders are to keep constant contact with a second team that remains in orbit. Report any and all findings without delay and at the sign of any danger you cannot handle, you are permitted to evacuate immediately.
"If you are able to determine the nature of the mystery and you are able to declare the world safe, your orders are to establish a permanent base on the plane
t. To this purpose, a LEGO-III nanite factory and 20 engineering bots have been issued to you!"
I was so occupied listening to the recording, that when I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye it was too late!
A dark green tentacle coiled around me and pulled me into the muddy green water.
The last thing I heard was Krabbel's alarm before I was pulled below the surface. I instinctively opened my gills and gagged! The water was full of debris and almost no oxygen. I would drown in this soup just as anyone else.
My legs hit the ground. The bog was not as deep as I thought it was and with all my strength I tried to stand up against whatever was pulling me down. I managed to get my head out of the water. More tentacles coiled around me and I soon would be totally helpless and be dragged under for good.
My blaster was pinned to my hip by one of the tentacles and was as unreachable as any of the three knives I was carrying, but my right arm was still free, so I pulled the .45, thumbed the safety and fired the entire magazine into the barely-visible black blob just in front of me from where the tentacles centered.
The thing reared out of the water, pulling me forward. I felt the tentacles go limp and instantly knew the beast was dead! Two sun-bright beams singed over my head, vaporizing water and much of whatever got me.
At the same time, Har-Hi jumped with Dai knives in both fists into the water and started cutting tentacles away from me.
Krabbel, holding two blasters, kept firing and whatever had me was reduced to atomic ashes. Har-Hi's face was covered with green slime and filth: "Are you all right?"
"I think so."
He grinned at me. "I know you like swimming but you should choose who you share the water with a little more carefully, besides this water is disgusting!"
Two huge hands grabbed us both and pulled us with no effort back on the platform. Hans managed to look concerned, relieved and happy at the same time.
Wetmouth came running with a first aid kit. In her voice vibrated with more than concern, almost something like fear or panic. This actually surprised me; she was usually the most un-emotional of us all. "Is he alive?" I struggled to my feet. "Yes, I am fairly sure and if these tentacles had any poisonous stingers or so, it didn't penetrate my suit as far as I can tell."
Eric Olafson Series Boxed Set: Books 1 - 7 Page 38
