by S. H. Jucha
Hamoi examined the end of the hose he pulled from the dust and compared it the stubbing of the console’s tube. It appeared to be similar. He freed a length of the tubing from Triton’s surface. It ended at a small section of polished metal set into the surface. Hamoi sought to pull at the base, thinking that it had been torn from its fitting, but it was solid. Looking at the hose in his hand, Hamoi brought it close to the console’s tube to confirm his thought that the piping might have been cut.
Hamoi’s mistake was to touch the two ends of the tubing together and was stunned to watch the cut seal. Suddenly, exclamations and yelps echoed in Hamoi’s helmet, and he hurried to the front of the console. The panel’s controls were glowing, as was the platform base. Overhead, a shimmering dome of blue light enclosed the site.
“Captain,” Aurelia shouted, having detected Jessie’s spike of panic.
The team rushed to Jessie’s side. He was flat on his back and stretching an arm out to facilitate turning over. Aurelia bent to help Jessie, but Belinda’s hand caught her shoulder. The second mate’s face, shaking in the negative, was clear through her helmet’s faceplate.
“Are you all right, Captain?” asked Darrin, alarmed.
“Fine, fine,” Jessie replied. “I was spooked. That’s all.”
“Oh, for the love of Pyre,” Hamoi lamented. “Look at the instrument on the ring base.”
The shimmering light that formed the dome was exiting the ring base through the slot. Jessie’s spectrometer lay in two pieces, neatly cleaved in half with one part inside the dome and the other outside.
“I was peering into that slot and leaned away to get another tool when that light flashed in front of my eyes,” Jessie explained.
“I’m so sorry, Captain, it’s my fault,” Hamoi blurted out. “The tubing was empty. I had no idea it would self-repair.”
“Self-repair?” Tully asked.
“What part of alien-constructed site didn’t you understand, spacer?” said Darrin, heat coloring his face. That Hamoi had triggered the activation of the instrumentation was worrying, but that his actions had nearly decapitated Captain Cinders had him quaking in fright.
Jessie regained his feet and was about to address his team, when his eyes went to the platform. One by one, the crew members turned to see what had caught the captain’s eye. The dust on the platform was swirling in a small eddy. As the crew watched, it grew larger and larger, engulfing the entire platform and soon the complete site. The team covered their faceplates with their hands to prevent surface scratching, which would obscure their vision.
Tully switched on his helmet’s audio pickup and listened to the muffled sound of the dust beating against it. Several minutes later, the sound disappeared, and Tully slowly removed his hands from his faceplate. “It stopped,” he sent over the suit comm to his team members.
Jessie and the others stared in awe at the site. Every speck of dust was gone. Where it went, no one knew, having protected their faceplates from the abrasive mineral dust. The site was immaculate. The base was made entirely of gleaming metal and divided into wedges, like a dessert might be cut for serving. The alien symbols covered the entire deck, and the bodies stood out in stark relief.
“Captain, look there, in the alien’s hand,” said Belinda, pointing to the nearest body of the smaller species.
The body was near the console, and Jessie slowly approached it and knelt. The team craned over his shoulder and around him to see.
“A weapon maybe,” Jessie said. “Odd-looking though.”
“It’s not a weapon, Captain.” Hamoi said, and he ignored the glare Darrin sent his way. “It’s a cutting tool. I found a hose at the back of the console that looked separated from the rear panel. I meant to compare the two ends. Unfortunately, when I touched them together, they joined. I mean the material sealed itself. That’s when the power came on.”
“Hamoi, you didn’t hook up any cable or wires or something like that?” Tully asked.
“The tubing was empty … both ends of it. I thought the guts of the tube had been stripped out. Now that I see this alien with the strange tool in his hand, I get it,” Hamoi explained.
“You get what?” Darrin demanded.
“Earlier, the captain wondered which bodies represented the interlopers and which bodies were the Pyre-based creatures. Of course, both species could have been fighting on this moon for possession of the system. But, then, you’d have to ask why —”
“Spacer, get to the point about the tool,” Darrin requested, interrupting Hamoi’s running commentary.
“Sorry, so much is going through my head,” Hamoi replied. “That thing the little alien is carrying is some sort of beam-cutting tool.”
“Interesting, Hamoi. How did you arrive at that conclusion?” Jessie asked.
“That body is the closest to the back panel,” Hamoi replied. “If that tubing is self-sealing, a sawing instrument might not have gotten through the entire diameter before the cut would start sealing behind it. It had to be a beam tool that could slice through it quicker than it could repair itself.”
“I have only one problem with that theory, Hamoi,” Jessie replied. “You’re suggesting immediate separation of the power supply, which, if we interpret what just happened, should have immediately shut down the dome.”
“Yikes, explosive decompression,” Tully said.
“Which means the bodies would have been blown into space instead of lying around here,” Belinda added.
“Captain, come look,” Aurelia said. She was crouched on the metal deck, her helmet close to the feet of one of the alien figures.
“Please, nobody touch anything,” Jessie called out sternly.
“I’m not,” Aurelia objected. “I’m taking a close look at this alien’s boots.”
When Jessie knelt beside Aurelia, she leaned back. “Look at the soles, Captain.”
Jessie felt like he was examining a mirror image of the metal deck that was reflected in the soles of the alien’s boots. “It’s the same material,” he said. “These boots are especially made to adhere to this decking.”
“An explosive decompression event, and the aliens stay attached to the deck. I want that,” Tully said wistfully.
“Captain, take a look at the front of the body,” Belinda said. She moved aside as Jessie crabbed over.
“A burn hole,” Jessie remarked, examining the clean hole punched through the center of the alien’s chest.
“And look at what it went through, Captain,” Belinda added.
“Some sort of control panel, I would bet,” Jessie replied.
“The hole comes out the back, Captain,” Aurelia said.
Jessie stood and looked at the bodies, the glowing platform, and the dome, organizing his thoughts. “These little guys didn’t want these big guys operating this base for some reason, and they came here to destroy it. A fight breaks out, and the little aliens cut the power. The dome disappears. Instant vacuum, but they stay adhered to the deck and continue to fight, employing beam weapons to kill one another. When their suits are damaged, the boots no longer adhere to the deck and they fall over.”
“Good summary, Captain,” Darrin acknowledged. “If the big ones are local, why didn’t they repair the station?”
“Maybe there was a greater fight with ships, and this was a small element of the conflict,” Belinda volunteered.
“Let’s not forget the crater,” Hamoi said.
“There’s time for conjecture, later,” Jessie said, cutting off the questioning. He gazed around. The brightly glowing dome formed a complete hemisphere. There was no exit or airlock in sight. Jessie bounded over to the tool bag, he’d been using. One thin blade, which he had used to clean debris out of the slot, lay next to the ring’s base. He picked it up and said, “Step back,” to his team. When everyone was a good 4 meters from the base, Jessie tossed the tool at the dome. He expected some sort of reaction, a spark or something, but the tool bounced off the shimmering light and fell to the m
etal deck.
“Great,” Darrin grumped. “An impenetrable alien shield.”
“Captain, what about cutting the power cable that the aliens cut the first time?” Hamoi volunteered.
The team hurried over to the little alien and examined his tool without disturbing the body.
“The tool has a cable that’s plugged into the suit,” Belinda noted.
“Probably the tool’s power source,” Tully surmised.
“If that’s the case,” Darrin reasoned, “then the beam was electronically controlled by the alien’s suit, and, with the controller damaged, if that’s what that central panel is, then there goes the opportunity to use this thing to cut the power cable.”
“Then we cut it ourselves,” Jessie said. “What do we have?”
To the crew’s disappointment, no one came up with any sort of saw or edged tool. Hamoi smartly kept his mouth shut about the cutting tool in the rover.
“Okay, we divide into two teams,” Jessie said, putting strength behind his words to give his crew members confidence. “Darrin, Tully, and Hamoi, you examine the panel. See if you can figure out a shutdown switch. Don’t touch anything, yet. The other three of us will walk every centimeter of this deck. We’re looking for any sort of exit panel or outline in the metal that might indicate an exit is present. Let’s get to it.”
While Jessie walked a circle around the ring’s base, he attempted to contact the rover to relay his signal to the shelter, but he couldn’t raise the vehicle. He said nothing to his team, hoping no one else had tried. He needed to keep their hopes up. Ironically, everyone else had tried and chosen not to say anything too.
Hours later, the team had found no exit, and the technical crew was absolutely confused as to what constituted the console’s controls.
“Captain,” Darrin said, “these displays don’t even look like readouts to me, and there certainly isn’t anything resembling an on-off switch. My thought is that once the aliens powered up this device, it was meant to stay up.”
“Captain,” Belinda sent on a private channel, “my suit is reading five percent air in my tanks, and the carbon-dioxide scrubber is nearly used up.”
“I’ve got three percent,” Jessie replied, switching back to the team’s comm channel. “Check the other bodies. No time for subtleties. We’re looking for an operating weapon to fire at the panel or the dome.”
The team spread out, rolled bodies over, and searched for alien weapons.
“What is it with these characters?” Tully complained. “Didn’t any of them like to carry a simple hand weapon?”
“Every weapon I’ve found is attached to the suit too,” Belinda added.
“And mine are shot through the chest, directly through the central panel,” Aurelia said.
“The weapons were probably aimed and controlled by the vac suit. Perfect kill shot every time,” Darrin reasoned.
The team reformed in front of the panel. Jessie was the first individual to hear his suit’s final tank alarm. He’d been hearing Spryte warn him of his suit’s low air level since it dropped below 5 percent. This was his last warning. His tanks were empty.
Aurelia felt Jessie’s horror cut through her like a knife. She screamed Jessie’s name, as he grabbed his helmet, gasping for breath, and pulled it free of his vac suit’s collar ring.
* * *
“Triton base calling the Annie,” Orson said.
“Captain Erring here,” Yohlin answered.
“Captain, this is Orson. The investigating team hasn’t returned to the shelter, and we can’t raise Captain Cinders.”
“I presume you’ve tried to contact the others,” Yohlin replied.
“Affirmative, Captain, but no contact with them either. And the link to the rover is solid. We show it parked at the base of the cut where it was parked yesterday.”
“What can you see on the cam at the site, Orson?”
“Nothing, Captain, we lost that signal hours ago.”
“You what?”
“We thought Captain Cinders might have moved it or shut it off.”
“Did he inform you that he was going to do such a thing?”
“Well, no, ma’am, but it didn’t seem important to call the captain and ask him why he stopped the imagery feed.”
“And it didn’t occur to you, Orson, that the cut off might have been an indication of trouble.”
“But the site is inoperable, Captain. It didn’t seem possible they’d have a problem.”
“Except for that power supply operating in the ground, spacer,” Yohlin replied, her voice hard. “I’ll be back to you, Orson,” she added and cut the comm. “Annie calling the Spryte,” Yohlin sent.
“Ituau here, Captain,”
“Problem downside, Ituau. We’ve lost communications with the rover team.”
“Can the shelter reach the rover, Captain?”
“Affirmative, Ituau, and no response. They see it at the site. And before you ask, the cam feed went dead hours ago.”
Ituau swore under her breath, and Yohlin let the first mate vent. “Captain,” Ituau said, pulling it together, “if the team can’t reach the rover for some reason, we can’t affect a rescue before their air runs out.”
“Nonetheless, Ituau, I want a fast prep on your search rover. Get it downside in a hurry with Nate and one other inside. Get it done, Ituau.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Ituau replied. She cut the call and grabbed her comm unit. “Nate, emergency … vac suit in the rover bay, now.”
Ituau’s call popped Nate awake. Adrenaline flooded his body, as he slipped on deck shoes, grabbed the comm unit, and hurried from the cabin. He bumped into a spacer, by the name of Kasey, who was running in the same direction.
“Ituau, report,” Nate called.
“Erring’s order, Nate,” Ituau replied. “I’m getting into my suit now. We’re prepping a landing shuttle and the search rover for a rescue. We’ve lost contact with the team at the site.”
Nate would have replied, but he caught up with Ituau at the vac suit room.
“Nate, Kasey and you have the rover. Climb aboard and drive it into the shuttle. When the ship lands, get to the site immediately.”
Nate opened his mouth, and Ituau cut him off. “Don’t say it, Nate. We’re all thinking it. Just don’t say it.”
“Understood,” Nate replied and finished closing his vac suit.
From the shelter’s call to Yohlin and the landing of the shuttle near the site, it was two and a half hours. By Nate’s estimation of when the shelter lost the cam signal, which he guessed was the clue as to when trouble began, the team would have had nearly five hours of air, if their tanks were full when they started out from their rover. As Nate drove off the rear-loading ramp of the shuttle, his thought was that the team was dead and had been dead for hours. He banged his fist on the rover’s console in frustration.
-29-
Get Them Out
Nate parked the Spryte’s search rover next to that of the Annie’s and exited the vehicle with Kasey, the tech. He experienced a feeling of dread, walking toward the cut, and prepared himself for what they would find — the investigation team dead.
“Approaching the cut now, Captain,” Nate said. Yohlin and Ituau were online, hanging on every word the second mate transmitted.
“We’re losing your visuals, Nate,” Ituau said, watching interference build on the image transmission.
“How are you receiving Kasey’s transmission?” Nate asked, thinking the problem might be with his suit.
“His imagery is fading too,” Ituau replied.
“But you’re reading me okay, Ituau?” Kasey asked.
“Voice signals aren’t great, but we can read you,” Ituau replied.
The officers could hear the labored breathing of the rescue team, as they hurried to climb the rocky cut. The minutes dragged by, and the anxiety of both officers ratcheted up.
“Approaching the top of the cut, Captain,” Nate relayed. “We can see som
e blue light.” The next part of the transmission was garbled, when Nate and Kasey shouted something simultaneously.
“Captain, the dome’s on,” Nate said in the clear.
“What dome, Nate?” Ituau demanded.
“Sorry, Ituau, the rim that we saw in the imagery is projecting a dome of energy over the entire site.”
“Understood, Nate, but what about our people?” Yohlin asked.
“Heading closer now, Captain.”
“Don’t touch the dome, Nate,” Ituau cautioned.
“I hear that.” A couple of minutes of labored breathing occupied the transmission until Nate spoke again. “What the … the team is outside their vac suits.”
“Say again, Nate,” Yohlin ordered.
“All the dust in the dome is gone, Captain. The base inside the dome is a shiny metal deck with carvings, and our people are lying on it without their vac suits. This is as weird as it gets.”
“Are they asleep or dead, Nate?” Yohlin demanded.
“Hang on a minute, Captain. I’m zooming in with my helmet cam on one of our team. He’s lying on his side and facing me. Captain, your first mate, Darrin, does he snore?” Nate asked.
“Oh, for the love of Pyre, Nate,” Yohlin replied, ready to lose her temper, but she paused and thought. “Yes, yes, he does. He snores up a racket.”
“That explains it, Captain. I’m watching the man’s lips vibrate. I wanted to be sure it wasn’t from some source within the dome or something. I’m checking other details. Belinda is kind of a big girl, and her skins are definitely rising up and down.”
“If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m relieved to hear our people are alive, Nate, I’d smack you for your observations,” Ituau said.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Yohlin said. “Are our people asleep, or have they been put to sleep? How come we can’t communicate with them, and how come they’re in there and not outside the site?”
“Captain, do you mind Nate tossing a small stone against the dome?” Ituau asked.
