by Tanya Huff
The elderly Niln got slowly to her feet and peered up along the line of her nose, nictitating membrane flicking across both eyes. “Not going to ask how I’m feeling, Staff Sergeant Kerr?”
All right. “Do you feel like you’ll be able to climb down a vertical ladder, or should we lower you?”
They stared at each other for a moment, then the harveer snorted. “How far?”
“One level. About three meters.”
“We’re making our way to the next air lock?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Where’s your officer? Didn’t you lot have an officer when we came in here?”
“Captain Travik is unconscious.”
“And you’re in charge.” It wasn’t a question, so Torin didn’t bother answering it. “Just so we’re clear, you’re not in charge of me. It was agreed that the science team would operate independent of the military presence on this ship.” Her tail, which had been moving slowly back and forth, began to speed up. “Our investigations were not to be interfered with. I did not agree with Dr. Hodges’ procedure. Molecular unzipping…” Nostrils flared, her breathing had sped up to match the rhythm of her tail. “Dr. Hodges was a fine scientist. They were all fine scientists—although I believe the di’Taykan team’s structural fluidity theory was way off the curve. Way off the curve!”
Anger in the face of death, Torin understood. She pulled one of the seven cylinders from her vest and held it down to the Niln. “If you’d prefer to carry this, Harveer…”
“What is it?”
“Harveer Ujinteripsani.”
“Harveer Ujinteripsani?” Tail and breathing stopped together. An instant later, just as Torin was running through the little she knew of Niln physiology, breathing began again. Reaching out a trembling hand, Harveer Niirantapajee ran a vestigial claw down the length of the cylinder. “Returned to the egg. You did this?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” Scooping it up, she slipped it into one of the many pockets in the overalls she wore under her coat, murmuring, “May the First Egg protect and enclose him.” Then she sighed and looked around, as though she were actually seeing the extent of the disaster for the first time. “May the First Egg protect and enclose them all. Well, then, about that vertical descent.” Leaning around Torin, she pointed an imperious finger toward Guimond. “You can put the big Human at the bottom to catch me, but I expect I’ll manage.”
* * *
They moved the gear down first, and then the injured. Torin would have moved Harveer Niirantapajee first, but the Niln had wanted to stay with Gytha a Tur calFinistraven, the Katrien scientist. Torin wanted Gytha moved last. The longer they waited, the greater the chance that she’d wake up and they’d have a better idea of what was wrong—not to mention the best way to drop her down nine meters and do the least additional damage.
Both med kits carried stretchers, a rectangle of smart fabric with a handle at each corner. In the end, they snapped it out rigid, using it as a backboard and immobilizing her for the descent in a webbing of rope.
Recon packs carried fifty feet of near weightless rope as part of standard gear. Spun by Mictok—Torin had no intention of asking how, only partly because it seemed obvious to anyone who’d met a Mictok—the rope didn’t stretch, didn’t bind, and damn near didn’t tangle.
“How’s it going, Werst?”
Hanging from his feet above the stretcher, one hand steadying the edge—the only way a Marine and the injured Katrien could descend the shaft at the same time—Werst carefully moved his right foot a rung down. “Keep her coming.”
Braced on either side of the hole, Harrop and Jynett played out another bit of line.
A meter and a half from the bottom of the shaft, the stretcher came to rest across the inside of Guimond’s forearms.
“You know, there’s nothing to her under all that fur,” he murmured as Werst reached down and unhooked the ropes. “She’s so tiny and helpless.”
“And quiet,” Werst grunted. “I’ve never seen one quiet before.”
“She’s only quiet because she’s unconscious.”
“No shit.”
They tipped stretcher and Katrien slightly to get them through the hatch, then Guimond reclaimed her.
“Remember, sentient species; no scratching her behind the ears.”
“Shut up, Tsui.”
He carried her through the maze of cases, emerging in the temporary infirmary to see Huilin kneeling beside Captain Travik with a pouch of water. The captain swallowed and grabbed the di’Taykan’s arm. “It wasn’t my fault,” he said distinctly and slumped back down, head lolling to one side.
Huilin rocked back on his heels and caught sight of Guimond, “Just put her beside the other one,” he sighed, shoving his helmet back far enough to allow a few strands of turquoise hair to escape.
“Where’s Harveer Niira…Nyri…Where’s the Niln?”
“Staff’s got her and Ryder checking out packing crates on a ‘look, don’t touch’ basis. She wants to know how good this reconstruction is and if there’s stuff in here that couldn’t have come from Ryder’s memory, she wants to know if either of them recognize it. She says if we can get an idea of who else this barge has been in contact with, we can get an idea of where it’s been and we’ll have a better idea of whose side it’s on.”
“Okay, but what if they don’t recognize anything?”
“Then the civilians are still out of the way while we make ready to move out. Win win situation.” Tilting the helmet over one ear, Huilin granted momentary freedom to new bits of hair. “Fuk, I hate these things. She as light as she looks?” he added as Guimond squatted and set the scientist on the deck beside the reporter.
“Lighter.”
“Good. ’Cause the captain’s got that Krai bone density thing going, and he’s gonna be no fun at all to hump around.”
The rope holding the injured Katrien to the stretcher had been pulled tight enough that thick tufts of fur poked up through the spaces. It didn’t look comfortable. Guimond freed one edge, then frowned over a second set of knots. Unable to tell which way they went, he moved the scientist’s arm out from her body to allow him a better angle.
Her hand brushed Presit’s shoulder.
Two sets of black eyes snapped open.
Guimond barely got out from between them in time.
“Staff? Guimond. The Katrien are awake.”
“Good. Is that them I can hear?”
“Yeah, that’s them.”
“What the hell are they doing?”
“Uh, they were, I uh, guess…grooming?” He winced at a particularly high-pitched burst. “Now, they’re talk…”
A small black hand clutched suddenly at a handful of his uniform.
“Was that you, Guimond?”
“Yeah, Staff.” Ears burning, he tried to ignore Huilin snickering.
A second hand joined the first although about ten centimeters to the left and in a significantly less sensitive region.
“Why is Gytha a Tur calFinistraven tied down?” Presit demanded imperiously.
* * *
“We’re being tested.” Torin made the statement in a tone so flatly inarguable, her entire audience blinked in near unison. “When Mr. Ryder and I sank through the floor, we spent more time in transit than the depth of the floor would allow for. During that time, the ship clearly lifted information from Mr. Ryder’s mind.” A truncated jerk of her head directed their attention to the surrounding storehouse. “We don’t yet know if information was also taken from myself, Captain Travik, or Presit a Tur durValintrisy, but I expect we’ll find out soon enough.”
Perched near the top of the pile of gear, Orla shuddered dramatically, hair fanning out in a fuchsia halo. “No offense, Staff, but given your simulations, I’d rather not end up somewhere out of your head.”
“Better her head than the captain’s,” Tsui snorted.
Inclined to agree but not letting it show, Torin cut the general agr
eement off and continued. “Once we solved the communication problem, we got comm contact back. Mr. Ryder and I found our way through a seemingly solid wall…” She couldn’t stop her gaze from drifting toward him. One corner of his mouth quirked up in appreciation of the understatement. “Since then, we’ve been given hatches. The first hatch was locked. Mr. Ryder dealt with it, and the rest have been merely latched. If holing the wall caused the explosion, Johnston found a place where the wall could be knocked down conveniently over a shaft enabling us to join up.”
“That are all being coincidence,” Presit scoffed from the edge of the group where she and Gytha were sitting so close their fur intermingled.
“No.” Torin shook her head. “It doesn’t feel like coincidence.”
“And you are being who so that what you are feeling means so much?”
“What?”
“She wants to know why your feelings should define the situation,” Harveer Niirantapajee sighed, shooting an exasperated look at the reporter.
“I are speaking Federate,” Presit snapped, actually showing teeth.
Torin caught Werst’s eye and he carefully covered his own.
The Niln slapped her tail against her leg. “You’re speaking the Katrien idiosyncratic version of Federate. If you’re going to learn a language, why don’t you learn the syntax, that’s what I’ve always wondered. Egocentric mammals.”
“Enough!” The whip snap of Torin’s voice sat both Katrien down again and cut off half a dozen other comments. “Harveer, thank you for the translation but there will be no interspecies conflict. And to answer the question, I’m defining the situation because I’m in charge.”
“Who are saying…”
“They are.” She jerked her head toward the twelve Marines.
Heads pulled almost reluctantly around, the two scientists and the reporter stared up at the mass of black uniforms.
Tsui waved.
“You want to wander around this vessel on your own,” Torin told them, pretending she couldn’t see Ryder grinning his stupid head off over on the other side of the team, “be our guest. You want a hope in hell of getting off this thing, you stay with us, you do as you’re told, and I don’t want to have to keep telling you that.”
“We are not Marines,” Presit muttered.
“That’s for damn sure.” Folding her arms, she swept her gaze over the remains of the boarding party, uniting them again. “Our mission objective is simple; we need to get to the next air lock as quickly as possible and pick up our ride back to the Berganitan.”
“You’re sure the Berganitan will still be there?”
“I am.” Which she was, and her certainty was all they needed. “The closest air lock is seven levels down, a little over four klicks aft, and about three and a half klicks starboard. Hatch one opens into a passageway that goes forward a hundred meters, then drops into a descending vertical with no bounce and no disruption of airflow that’d indicate an egress—not to mention standard gravity and no visible rungs. Hatch two opens into an identical passageway heading starboard for seventy-five meters, then turns ninety degrees to head forward. This passageway, now paralleling the first, shows no bounce, no egress. Either could, eventually, lead us where we want to go, but I’d just as soon not wander randomly around—we need a map.”
“Staff, what makes you think the ship’ll give us what we need?” Nivry’s hair was flicking back and forth. “I mean, maybe we’ll solve the puzzle in this room and it’ll give us…uh…”
“Piped-in music,” Frii offered.
Nivry shot the other di’Taykan an irritated look but let the suggestion stand.
“It’s given us what we’ve needed so far.”
“Yeah, after it exploded and killed most of the science team.”
“I don’t think it meant to do that,” Ryder said suddenly. “I think it saved your captain and the reporter because they were the only two not killed instantly. And I think it removed me and the staff sergeant because we were in danger. And now I think it’s trying to figure out who and what we are.”
Expressions changed as the assembled company considered new possibilities. Finally, brows knitted into a deep vee over the bridge of her nose, Dursinski shook her head. “It won’t know we need to go out an air lock.”
“It knows we came in an air lock,” Torin said flatly.
“You’re making this up as you go along, aren’t you, Staff?”
“You got a better suggestion, Lance Corporal? Because if you do, I’ll listen to it.” Tsui ruefully shook his head and, arms folded, Torin watched the twelve Marines consider all that had been said. Heer and Johnston, the two engineers, looked intrigued. Nivry, Harrop, Frii, and Huilin looked reluctantly convinced. Dursinski looked worried and Werst pissed off, but both, Torin had come to realize, were pretty much a given regardless. Tsui, Orla, and Jynett seemed doubtful, but as long as they had no better ideas, they could do as much doubting as they liked. Guimond was smiling broadly. Torin decided she’d rather not speculate about the reason.
“Orla, you’ll be staying with the captain. He regains consciousness, try and get him to contact the Berganitan.”
“Why me?” the di’Taykan protested.
“Because if I remember correctly, which I do, you’re pretty much the only one left who hasn’t done something to piss him off. Heer, Johnston, you start scanning the cases. Mr. Ryder didn’t know what was in them in the original storehouse so there could be anything in them now. Squad One, check the perimeter for anything resembling an access panel. Squad Two, sweep the room looking for anything that doesn’t seem to fit. You find something, you check it against Mr. Ryder’s memory.” She stepped back and half turned, gesturing dramatically into the room. “Let’s move, people; you really don’t want to be around me when we run out of coffee.”
She was surprised to find the three non-Human civilians beside her when the rush ended.
“We have very little equipment,” Harveer Niirantapajee began without preamble, “but what we have we will use in an attempt to communicate directly with the ship.” She held up a slate about half again as large as the military version. “I suspect that by your standards, I’m carrying nothing of practical value in here, but I do have a large memory and a great deal of processing ability as well as about half of the data I’d collected before the explosion.”
“You said, we?”
Gytha leaned forward, muzzle wrinkled in what Torin assumed was a smile. “I are carrying a second degree in fractal communications. Presit are being a professional communicator.”
“And the three of you can work together?”
Presit looked dubious, but the Katrien scientist patted Harveer Niirantapajee on the shoulder. “I are working with her many times before. She are having—how are you Humans saying?—worse bark than her bite?”
“Close enough. Communicating with the ship would be very helpful, thank you.” Torin watched them walk away, the Katrien keeping up a running commentary in their own language. As far as being stuck with civilians went, she supposed it could have been worse.
On cue, she turned to find Ryder standing behind her. “You walk too damn quietly.”
“Sorry.”
“Listen, I want to thank you for the support.”
“Craig.”
“What?”
“Thank you for the support, Craig.”
“Don’t push it.” But she was smiling, and with the smile some of the muscles in her back relaxed.
“You know, I hate to put a damper on things, but we could be wrong. There could be no puzzle to solve in this room.”
Torin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. At just past 1740 it had already been a very, very long day. “There has to be, because the alternative is trying to find a way to that air lock by wandering around inside an enormous ship that can change its configuration at will while carrying a wounded officer, escorting three civilians, with only three field rations and a little over a liter of water each.”
> “Four.”
“What?”
“Four civilians.” He smiled broadly and his eyes twinkled. “Although I’m flattered that you seem to be counting me among your people.”
She had. And if he hadn’t been so damned amused by it, she’d have let it go.
“I wouldn’t be flattered,” she told him, pulling her slate to check Captain Travik’s vitals. “I’d forgotten to count you entirely.”
“Ouch.”
But a half glance toward him showed he was still smiling, and still twinkling. Annoying son of a bitch.
NINE
“We plan to attach this comm unit directly to the side of the ship…” The science officer touched the screen and the image rotated one hundred and eighty degrees on the X-axis and ninety on the Y. “…with these pads here. Once attached, it will, in essence, act in the same manner as the shuttle’s comm unit, boosting the signals of the Marines’ PCUs and enabling us to communicate with your people.”
“Seems simple enough,” General Morris grunted, glaring at the three-dimensional rendering. “What’s taking so long?”
Captain Carveg waved the science officer back and answered herself. “We don’t just pick one of these off the shelf and slap it onto an RC drone, General. I’ve had engineers working since the explosion to adapt both the comm unit and the delivery system. We’re talking about only a matter of hours here, so you’ve got little to complain about.”
“I’ve got an officer in there who represents the entire Krai vote in Parliament, Captain. You’ll excuse me if I’m impatient.”
“You’ve got fourteen Marines in there, General. Not one.”
He turned slowly, broad face flushed nearly maroon. “I don’t much like your tone, Captain Carveg.”
Her upper lip lifted. “I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”
The tension in the room rose to near palpable levels. Four Naval officers and Lieutenant Stedrin froze in place—eyes locked on their respective leaders, Lieutenant Stedrin, at least, willing to shield his CO with his own body.
“Captain Carveg, we’re picking up Susumi leakage at that portal we spotted earlier. Educated guess says it’s about to reopen.”
