As the runabout completed its loop, the Glant vessel that had just fired came into view. The howl of the phasers blared in the cockpit. Weil saw two reddish-yellow rays burst from the bow. They caught the Glant ship astern. The vessel veered away, but Weil followed, expertly adjusting the runabout’s course in her pursuit. Grandal continued to fire.
“More Glant approaching from above,” Weil called out.
“I see them,” Grandal said, but he kept up the assault on the ship ahead of the runabout. Five seconds later, the Glant vessel exploded in a ball of flame. Fragments of its charred hull fell in smoking streamers toward the surface.
Weil navigated directly for the shrinking fireball. She took Styx into the destruction, then abruptly changed course when the smoke and debris obscured the ship. She sent the runabout into a steep dive. Only at the last second did she see two more Glant vessels approaching from below. She tried to bring the runabout around, but too late. A volley of lasers pummeled the ship.
“Shields down to eleven percent,” Grandal called out. “We can’t take many more hits.”
Weil pulled Styx up, racing away from the vessels nearing from the surface. In the sky above, from all angles, seven Glant ships bore down on the runabout. Grandal opened fire at once, sending serial phaser blasts into one vessel after another. But the Glant ships struck back, doing so en masse. Weil threw Styx into desperate evasive action, whisking left and right, climbing, diving, but too many lasers pierced the air. She eluded one, then another, and still another, but finally a bolt landed, and then a second.
“Shields down to three percent,” Grandal called out.
Weil gambled. She dropped the runabout’s velocity to zero and let Styx tumble. “Hold your fire,” she told Grandal. “Let them think we’re powerless.” Sensors would show otherwise, but as the Glant watched Styx fall through the sky, the feint might secure the runabout crew a few crucial seconds.
“Acknowledged,” Grandal said.
Weil checked her own sensor panel and saw the surface rushing up fast. She also saw the route she wanted to take, and she modified the runabout’s descent accordingly, shifting its flight path from straight down to a steep angle.
“The Glant ships are moving away,” Grandal suddenly said. “It’s the shuttlecraft squadron and the Robinson heading for the Dyson section. The Glant are moving to intercept.”
Weil glanced at her sensors and saw the ships above peeling off and climbing toward space, but the two below Styx remained in place. “We’ve still got two tracking us. Prepare to fire at both, at close range.” Weil accelerated Styx and decreased the slope of its trajectory. Visible through the forward ports, the ground grew closer, flashing past in a blur.
And then a field of deep blue appeared. The runabout had made it to one of the large bodies of water on the surface of the Glant world. “Shunt all shield power to the bow,” she ordered. Weil waited for Grandal to acknowledge the order, for what seemed like too long.
But then he said, “All shield power has been shunted to the bow.”
Weil drove Styx downward. The runabout juddered violently as it crashed through the surface of the water. The cockpit grew darker for a moment as the Glant sun vanished, but the overhead lighting panels automatically adapted.
Weil calculated the time it would take the vessels in pursuit to reach the ocean, then brought Styx once more to a rapid stop. She quickly spun the runabout around on its perpendicular axis, yawing one hundred eighty degrees about. “Prepare to fire,” she said again, just as the two Glant vessels dove into the water. “Now!”
Phasers shot from the bow of Styx. The beams looked green so far beneath the ocean surface, the reds, oranges, and yellows absorbed by the water. Each of the twin beams flashed into the Glant vessels head-on, less than a hundred meters away.
The ships exploded.
Weil dipped the bow of the runabout and sped downward. “Shields at normal distribution,” she said.
“Normal shields, aye,” Grandal said.
The shockwaves of the blasts and a mass of vaporized water still caught Styx, shaking it forcefully and filling the ship with a tremendous roar. Pieces of broken hull clanked against the runabout. But then Styx outpaced the turbulence and the destruction from the explosions, and the cockpit quieted.
“Any other vessels in pursuit?” Weil asked.
“Negative,” Grandal reported. “They may all be dealing with the shuttlecraft squadron and the Robinson. Or maybe they think we’ve been destroyed—which we nearly were. Shields are down to two percent.”
“Initiate repairs and start recharging the shields,” Weil said. “We still have a mission to complete.” The ensign studied the navigational sensors as she took the runabout deeper. The view through the ports looked black, with only a hint of illumination from the runabout itself.
Eventually, Styx settled onto the ocean floor.
Bajor, 2380
At the Militia headquarters in Kendra Province, Tey stood in the middle of the room, her arms folded across her chest. Her gaze roamed over the numerous displays that lined three of the walls above the consoles that Major Orisin’s staff crewed. Orisin had initially commandeered the Mission Operations Center in Renassa hours after Rebecca Sisko had been kidnapped, activating it for the express purpose of coordinating the search for the missing girl. Various Militia provincial headquarters around the planet housed such emergency facilities. Normally dormant, the MOCs provided centralized assets that could be reconfigured and staffed to support a broad range of mission profiles.
At the moment, much of the operation concentrated on scans of the area to the northeast of Johcat. After finding and studying the travel pod Radovan had used to flee the city, Tey had computed its potential reach and delineated an area in which to search. Orisin immediately requisitioned the use of a satellite in geosynchronous orbit over the region, targeting its sensors to scan for anything that could lead to Radovan and the girl. The major had also ordered Militia personnel to take shuttles into the area to conduct visual surveillance from the sky.
As she looked at the different displays, Tey battled a feeling of helplessness. Since being conscripted by the first minister into joining the operation to recover Rebecca Sisko, she had stopped only to sleep—and not for very long. She wanted to do more than merely observe as others continued the mission.
After shutting down Radovan’s travel pod, Tey had read through the reports of the interviews Orisin’s staff had conducted of the other support personnel at the Elanda District Three Transporter Terminal. Nobody had anything particularly negative to say about Radovan, but neither had anybody had anything particularly positive to say. Denveer Cotes, the manager of the transporter terminal, used words like “prompt” and “technically capable,” but he offered no superlatives. None of his colleagues could recollect ever socializing with him, and a few chose descriptors like “aloof” and “loner.”
All of that had served to reinforce Tey’s profile of Radovan, but it had done nothing to narrow the search for him. Next, she had randomly selected a number of the Ohalavaru who’d accompanied Rejias Norvan to Endalla and survived the ordeal. She transported out to their locations and questioned them, but only a few could remember Radovan at all, and none could recall ever speaking with him. Tey had better fortunes asking about Winser Ellevet. It turned out that she had also been an Ohalavaru, which suggested how she and Radovan had met. Different people described her in paradoxical terms, some calling her mousy and shy, while others labeled her sassy and opinionated. None of what Tey learned bore on the problem of where Radovan might have taken Rebecca—though the murder of Winser certainly made finding him as soon as possible that much more imperative.
“Some deka tea, Agent?” Orisin asked, sidling up beside Tey with a cup in each hand. He held one out to her, which she accepted with thanks. The slightly sweet aroma of the tea drifted to her, and she sipped from her cup. “Actually, you look like you can use something stronger than that.”
�
�I’m sure I could,” Tey agreed, though as a rule, she did not drink alcohol. In her role as a protector of the first minister, she’d been required to be ready for duty at all times. She generally eschewed anything that impacted her abilities or perceptions. “It’s frustrating not to be able to do more.”
“That’s the duty of an investigator,” Orisin said. “Ask questions, seek answers, look for clues, and follow the chain of evidence. It’s not glamorous. It takes time and effort, and more often than not, patience.” He shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that could not hide the major’s own anxieties about the situation.
“I know,” Tey said. She regarded the large viewscreen mounted on the wall directly in front of her. It showed a pulsating white circle methodically sliding across a view from above the Deserak Wilderness. “He’s got sensor-defeating tech with him,” she said, motioning toward the screen with the hand holding the cup of tea. “He has to, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to get past the checkpoint out of Johcat.”
“That’s assuming he still has the girl with him,” Orisin said. “If he has accomplices—”
“He doesn’t,” Tey said, more sharply than she intended. She took a moment to calm herself, sipping her tea before explaining her point of view. “Radovan’s reclusive, an introvert. He doesn’t relate to other people.”
“So he doesn’t have accessories, but maybe somebody engaged him for his transporter expertise,” Orisin suggested. “He could have abducted the girl and then handed her off to whoever planned the operation.”
“Then why did we find a dead woman in his flat?” Tey asked.
“It could be unrelated,” the major said, although his tone betrayed that he didn’t believe his own suggestion.
“It could be unrelated, but it isn’t,” Tey said. “Maybe she helped him with the kidnapping and then had second thoughts about it, although I doubt that’s what happened. More likely, Radovan abducted Rebecca on his own, and Winser found out and objected to it.”
“That’s speculation.”
“It’s reasoning to fit the facts we have,” Tey said. She unwrapped a finger from around her cup and pointed to the viewscreen ahead of them. “And one of the facts we have is that the security officers at the checkpoint didn’t find the girl in his travel pod. That means either he left her somewhere in Johcat, or he hid her in the travel pod and masked her life signs.” She studied the display, following the painstakingly slow process of pinpointing a Bajoran and a human in a vast expanse filled with wildlife. “Maybe if we searched for an energy source,” Tey said. “His sensor mask must require power.”
“We are doing that,” Orisin said, waving toward a screen off to their left. It showed a pair of concentric green circles sliding across the Deserak landscape. “But if Radovan is using a sensor mask, the device will conceal its own readings.”
“What about looking for sensor holes?” Tey asked.
“That’s not the way those devices work,” Orisin said. “Sensor masks don’t eliminate readings in an area, leaving an obvious hole. That would effectively render them useless. They disguise the readings where they’re in use, making the masked area blend in with its surroundings.”
“Of course,” Tey said. She didn’t have a lot of experience with such devices, but she should have figured out that they would function the way the major had described.
“It wouldn’t matter anyway,” Orisin said. “Even if we were to scan for ‘sensor holes,’ it wouldn’t cut down on the search time. The undeveloped areas northeast of Johcat are substantial. It will take time to locate anything out of the ordinary, whether it be Bajoran or human life signs, a power source, a sensor hole, or anything else.”
Tey shook her head. “I’m ready to beam out there myself and search on foot.”
“I know; I feel the same way,” Orisin said. “I spoke earlier today about that kind of plan with the commandant.”
The statement confused Tey. “What kind of plan?”
“A line search,” Orisin said. “I spoke with Overgeneral Manos about the possibility of transporting Militia troops to the area to walk it.”
“You’d need thousands of troops.”
“Thousands of troops and a lot of time,” Orisin said. “For right now, sensors and shuttles make more sense.”
“Because you don’t think we have a lot of time?” Tey asked.
The major looked at her squarely. She thought he would say something, perhaps suggest that they still had plenty of time to find Rebecca Sisko before it was too late. Instead, he cast his gaze downward.
“I know,” Tey said to him quietly. “I think we’re running out of time too.”
• • •
Radovan waited as the Avatar trudged across the spongy bed of dead leaves beneath the forest canopy. He had cleared a path through the undergrowth with his large blade on his way to and from the gully, but the footing was proving a hazard for the girl. Her little, unsteady legs made it difficult for her to walk quickly without losing her balance. For the prior ten minutes, Radovan had moved ahead the length of the chain that bound the girl to him, then paused so that she could catch up. It made their journey not only slow, but frustrating. The energy coursing through Radovan made him want to bolt, to race through the wood to the gully so that he could finally realize his fate.
When the girl reached him, she looked up. A wayward beam of sunlight penetrated through the thick crown of the wood and shined on her forehead. Radovan stared at the small dot of light, which looked as though it marked her in some meaningful way.
“We’re not going home,” the girl said. She did not sound scared or angry, or even petulant. She simply spoke as though relaying her awareness of a fact.
“We’re not going anywhere very quickly with you taking so long,” Radovan said. He took his carryall from his shoulder and set it down, then opened his arms to the girl. “Why don’t I carry you?” he said. “We’ll get there much quicker.” Radovan expected her to refuse, but instead, she padded over and allowed him to pick her up. He propped her in the crook of his elbow, then carefully bent to retrieve his carryall, which he draped once more over his shoulder. Then he put his free hand on his homemade device, held aloft by the antigrav.
They continued on like that, making their way through the wood, until they finally reached the gully. At the edge of the circular depression, Radovan pushed the floating cylinder off to one side, then pulled the carryall from his shoulder. He tried to measure the distance and the right amount of force to use, then tossed the bag underhand into the air. It landed just a few meters from the center of the gully, striking a smaller stone and sending up a quick metallic rattle.
Radovan peered around the perimeter, trying to determine the best way to make his way down. The girl would not be able to do so on her own. The sides of the depression sloped for ten or so meters and appeared fairly steep, though not quite precipitous.
About a third of the way around, a downed tree reached from the upper edge of the gully almost all the way to the bottom. Deciding that he could place his free hand against the trunk in order to keep his balance, Radovan made his way over to it, still pushing the levitating cylinder ahead of him. “We’re going down there,” he told the girl, “so put your arms around my neck and hold on tightly.”
She looked at where he pointed. “I don’t wanna go down there.”
Moving the cylinder out of the way, Radovan said, “Well, we’re going, so you better grab on to me.” Without waiting for a response, he steadied himself against the dead tree and dropped over the edge. His hiking boots came down sideways atop the layer of growth covering the sides of the gully, crashing through it to the dirt beneath. He descended the first few steps without incident, but then his front foot caught on a vine and he started to fall forward. He pulled his hand from the tree trunk—scraping it along the hard, dead bark—instinctively wrapped his arms around the girl, and purposely dropped onto his back. He skidded down the embankment, using his feet as pistons to restrain his descent
as best he could. His shirt rode up, allowing earth and stones, vines and leaves, to attack his uncovered flesh.
Radovan came to a stop near the bottom of the gully. His back felt as though it had been whipped raw. He started to ask the girl if she was all right, but immediately realized the absurdity of the question. He pushed himself up with his free hand, which burned from the abrasions caused by the tree. He stutter-stepped his way to level ground and set the girl down.
After setting down the girl and reclaiming his carryall, Radovan went over to the boulders. He dug out the items he’d brought with him. Using the sledge, he plunged a pair of pitons into seams on opposite sides of the boulder. He then unlocked the manacle from around his wrist and attached it to one of them. He took another length of chain and connected the girl’s other wrist to the second piton.
“I’ll be right back,” he told her. He climbed back up the embankment to where he’d left the floating cylinder. Taking more care and moving more slowly, he descended backward into the gully, pulling his device after him. When he reached the bottom, he turned toward the Avatar.
The girl stood as he’d left her, with her back to the boulder, her arms raised to either side, held up by the chains that bound her to the pitons. She should have been complaining, whining to him about her discomfort, about how she didn’t want to be there, about how she wanted her mother. But she didn’t. She only watched him mutely.
Radovan maneuvered his device into place above another large rock, a meter or so in front of the girl. He powered down the antigrav and the cylinder settled onto the relatively flat surface of the stone. He activated the padd attached to the device by a couple of fiber-optic leads.
“Everything’s going to be all right,” he told the girl. “We’re almost done here, and then all this will be finished. You won’t have to spend any more time with me.”
The girl looked at him without saying anything, and then down at the device. When she peered back up at him, she seemed to take his measure. “I want to go home.”
Original Sin Page 29
