The Borrega Test

by James Vincett

  “So, what’s your plan?” Beckenbaur asked.

  “We’re never going to survive running the blockade around Cerilia IV, I’m sure,” Talbot replied. “We’ll either steal the Molly Mae from the surface station on the moon, or transfer her transponder to the Trieste. Hopefully we can just fly through the blockade to the surface of Cerilia IV.”

  “Risky,” Bandele said.

  “I can’t think if a better idea. If anyone else has one, it’s time to hear it.”

  No one said anything.

  “Plot a course to Cerilia VII-42” Talbot said. On the front display, a line extended from the Trieste’s current position, around the gas giant, and terminated at one of the moons. Over the next several hours, the Trieste decelerated through the gas giant’s hyperspace limit and approached the moon.

  “Let’s see it,” Talbot said. The forward window and the HUD images turned transparent.

  Beckenbaur looked out of the forward window and saw the curved horizon of the moon, with the massive blue gas giant in the background. The surface of the moon looked pocked with craters and riven with fractures. Figures on the edge of the HUD indicated the moon was slightly larger than Earth’s own.

  “Strong sensor sweep,” Nick said, “probably from satellites in orbit, but the dampening field is holding.” He turned and looked at Talbot. “They’ll see us through their telescope once we get close enough.”

  “Let’s change our course thirty degrees to port and fly closer to the moon’s surface. We’ll do one more loop around the moon and approach the station flying low.”

  Beckenbaur saw the curved horizon shift to the right; the moon filled the forward window as the Trieste pitched forward and flew toward the surface.

  “Keep it at about three hundred meters, Jerrit,” Talbot said.

  The surface of the moon was a jagged landscape of ice, with pressure ridges scores of meters in height, deep fractures, and craters from a few meters to hundreds of kilometers in diameter.

  “The pressure ridges and fractures would only form if the ice was floating on a liquid,” Beckenbaur said. At that point, the Trieste flew over a large crater. “But it looks like the meteors that gouged out these craters didn’t expose any water. If they had, water would have filled the impact and frozen over. We wouldn’t be able to see any craters at all.” He saw avalanches of ice at the edge of the crater.

  “It doesn’t take much water,” Bandele said. “The ice could be moving on a thin film of liquid.”

  Beckenbaur looked at Bandele. “You’re right. I guess I haven’t been a geologist for too long. This moon probably has a molten core, so any amount of heat could create a thin film of water. The rotation of the moon could provide enough energy to move the ice across the surface.”

  “This moon is like a thousand other moons in Union space,” Heather said. “Why would they set up a surface station here?”

  “Good question,” Talbot said. “The Exploration Service has limited resources. When I was in we would have just set up a network of satellites and automated probes.”

  It took a few hours to fly around the moon at such a low altitude. “We’re a thousand kilometers out,” Jerrit said.

  “Dampening field is holding,” Nick said. “Passive sensors have detected no transmissions.”

  Talbot tapped a key on her chair console. “Boys? Get on the guns and keep your eyes sharp.”

  “Yes ma’am!”

  “Jerrit, let’s not approach the station from the crater side. Circle around and come in from the other direction at a hundred klicks. Lower your altitude, but keep clear of the ridges.”

  The Trieste banked to the left and flew closer to the surface.

  “Any visual sensors in the satellites will easily spot us,” Bandele said.

  “Probably already have,” Talbot replied, “but they can’t get target lock for any weapons.”

  “Weapons?” Beckenbaur asked. “There are no ships around.”

  “That base will have some defenses,” Bandele said. “Missiles for sure.”

  “How do we get inside, then?”

  “Can I suggest something?” one of the twins said over the intercom. “Use the Trieste as a diversion and we can approach the station in the Maxxor over the ice.”

  “Just what I was thinking, Danner,” Talbot said.

  How the hell can she tell them apart?

  “That’ll get you close to the station, Doctor,” Talbot continued, “but you’ll need to deal with whatever security they have inside. The twins will go with you.”

  “Awesome!” one of the twins cried over the intercom.

  “Once the station’s defenses are deactivated the Trieste will land at the station.”

  “We’re not soldiers, Captain,” Beckenbaur said.

  “Yes, you’re right. Jake and Krenlar will go, too. Nick, Jerrit and I will fly the Trieste and try to stay alive. We’ve got some body armor in the stores; it doesn’t match the battle armor the twins wear, but it’ll have to do.” She looked at Bandele. “You don’t need to go, Captain.”

  “I’m not a Captain anymore,” Bandele grimaced, “so stop calling me that. Besides, I accompanied militia patrols on Akaisha and probably have more experience with this shit than anyone on this ship, save the twins. I’m going.”

  Everyone assembled in the cargo bay. The twins wore their light battle armor, a full armored suit and environmental suit with integrated targeting systems, but the suits did not have full power assist for enhanced strength or built-in weapons like Marine battlesuits. The rest of them strapped on plasteel chestplates, greaves, and vambraces over their EVA suits. The twins shouldered blaster rifles equipped with under-mounted grenade launchers, while the others strapped on holsters for blaster pistols. Krenlar and Jake each carried a satchel of tools.

  “We won’t have to exit the Trieste like the last time, will we Captain?” Beckenbaur asked.

  “No, Doctor. We’ll find a relatively flat ice patch and land.”

  They took their places in the Maxxor vehicle: Beckenbaur driving, Heather on the sensors, with Jake, Nick and Bandele strapped into the bench seat. The twins and Krenlar stood in the back grasping panic handles, their boots locked into footholds on the floor of the cabin.

  “Two minutes, Doctor. We’re putting you down about ten klicks from the station. The file didn’t have a layout, but it looks like it has a habitation dome and attached landing bay for the Molly Mae. I’ve downloaded a scan of the moon’s surface into the Maxxor’s computer.”

  Beckenbaur reached for Heather; she grasped his glove hand in her own. “We’re almost there, Heather.”

  She smiled. “We’re doing the right thing, no matter what the risk. I couldn’t live with myself if we did nothing.”

  I needed to hear that.

  The rear cargo doors parted and opened to either side. Beckenbaur drove the Maxxor out of the Trieste and onto the ice. He punched the button to extend the wheel spikes. Heather projected a map of the area showing the moon’s surface and the location of the station on the HUD. A large ridge of ice loomed about fifty meters ahead. The reflected light from the gas giant cast a blue glow onto the ice.

  “Find us a course through this maze,” Beckenbaur said as he turned the vehicle left. The ride soon turned rough; the Maxxor’s engine whined as it climbed over smaller ice-ridges and across narrow fractures. Beckenbaur did his best to follow the course Heather projected on the HUD, but they had to pass several large boulders and chunks of ice.

  “Looks like ejecta from the impact,” Bandele said.

  “Let’s hope this is the biggest surprise we run into,” Heather said. “I don’t want to see one of the larger fissures.”

  The Maxxor rounded an ice boulder and pulled up to a ridge. A shallow slope, the floor studded with boulders and large chunks of ice, led down into a valley. The station sat on the opposite ridge, the dome reflecting the blue light of the gas giant. “We’ve got the station in sight, Captain,” Beckenbaur said, “at abou
t eight hundred meters.”

  “Acknowledged,” Talbot said over the commlink, “we’re coming in.”

  They waited for several minutes. The Trieste passed over them and flew toward the station.

  “Go,” Bandele said.

  “No missile attack,” one of the twins said.

  Beckenbaur maneuvered the Maxxor around large boulders of rock and ice and gunned the engine to climb the slope. He maneuvered up onto the ridge and passed a weapons turret.

  “I’m not complaining,” Heather said, “but why isn’t that thing shooting at us?”

  No one answered.

  The dome loomed above, tens of meters high, a field of stars in the background. Beckenbaur drove around the base of the dome looking for an entrance, passing two more deactivated weapons turrets.

  A rectangular structure, over ten meters in height, appeared as the vehicle rounded the dome. “That must be the landing bay for the Molly Mae,” Heather said. Beckenbaur drove around the corner and down the length of the structure; the wall looked smooth with few features. They rounded another corner and drove a short distance. Beckenbaur stopped where the rectangular landing bay merged with the dome. A ladder led up onto the top of the landing bay. On the right loomed the crater.

  “The only way in is probably through the landing bay,” Beckenbaur said. “You still there, Captain?”

  “Yep!”

  “Any chance you can send us a close-up image of the top of the station?”

  “Give me a sec.”

  “Let’s get out and get ready to climb.” They unstrapped themselves and exited the vehicle. Chunks of ice and stone covered the surface.

  “Beautiful!” Heather said. The blue gas giant hung in the sky, the planet’s ring system glittering against the star field. Beckenbaur could see a dozen other moons.

  “There’s the Trieste!” Krenlar pointed up, and Beckenbaur saw the ship bank and dive toward the station. It flew in low and passed over.

  “Check your pockcomp,” Talbot said.

  Beckenbaur looked at the image on his device and zoomed to the top of the landing bay. A set of long doors, closed, occupied much of the top, but he noticed a small round hatch near the top of the ladder.

  “Okay, boys. You go first; the rest of us will follow.”

  Bandele and Heather followed the twins, and Beckenbaur stepped to the ladder and started to climb. Everyone quickly ascended in the light gravity. Beckenbaur topped the ladder and saw the twins had readied their rifles. Jake and Krenlar hopped off the ladder.

  Beckenbaur knelt and wiped away the ice from the hatch. He pulled on the handle but the hatch didn’t budge.

  “Stand aside, Doc,” Jake said. “Krenny and I will take care of this.” Krenlar and Jake set down their satchels and began pulling out tools.

  “I think we can expect a welcoming committee,” one of the twins said.

  “I agree, Dylan,” Jake said as popped open a panel beside the hatch.

  Good grief, how can he tell them apart?

  Jake and Krenlar worked steadily for a few minutes. “All right, folks,” Jake said, “get ready.” Krenlar lifted the satchels, nodded, and stepped back. Jake pulled the handle and the hatch, hinged on one side, opened. Dylan stepped forward and leaned over. “Nobody there. Let us go first. Danner, pull a grenade and set it for five seconds.” The twins each pulled a grenade and turned a dial. They looked at each other, and then threw the bombs into the hole at an angle. They held their rifles muzzle down and jumped into the hole.

  Beckenbaur stepped to the hatch and looked down. He saw the twins fall in the light gravity to the floor. The first on his feet rolled out of the way, and the second rolled in the opposite direction. Both were out of sight.

  “Okay, Doc,” one of the twins said. “There’s nobody here. Y’all can come down now.”

  Beckenbaur stepped onto the ladder and slid down. A sleek vessel occupied half of the interior, surrounded by tanks and machinery. More equipment, tanks, hoses and gantries hung from the walls.

  “Why no security?” Beckenbaur asked.

  “Beats me, Doc,” one of the twins said, pointing. “Looks like that airlock is the way in to the dome.”

  For fuck’s sake. Beckenbaur waited until Jake and Krenlar slid down the ladder. “Do you two have some tape and a marker?”

  “Sure, Dr. Beckenbaur,” Krenlar said. “What for?”

  “Just give them to me.”

  Krenlar rooted around in his satchel, pulled out a roll of silver tape and a black marker, and handed them to Beckenbaur. The geologist pulled off a length of tape and approached one of the twins. “Which one are you?”

  Beckenbaur could see the smile on the man’s face. “Dylan,” the twin replied. Beckenbaur stuck the length of tape above Dylan’s visor and another on his suit pack. He wrote D Y L A N in large letters on each makeshift label as the rest of the team laughed.

  “Since you’ve labeled one of us ...” Danner began.

  “No fuckin’ way.” Beckenbaur cut him off. “You get branded, too.” When he finished labeling Danner, he called Talbot. “We’re in, Captain. There doesn’t seem to be any security so far. Set down on the landing bay doors and come on in. We’ll wait for you.”

  “Acknowledged,” Talbot said. ”Is the Molly Mae there?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Weird. We’ve detected no transmissions from the station. Looks like nobody’s home.”

  Several minutes later Beckenbaur felt a vibration go through the structure. “There’s the Trieste.”

  A suited figure appeared in the roof hatch and climbed down the ladder. “I’ve left Nick and Jerrit in the Trieste to keep an eye on things. Jake and Krenlar, let’s get into the Molly Mae and see if we can remove the transponder.”

  “Hang on, Captain,” Beckenbaur said. “This place is here for a reason. I think we should poke around a bit.”

  “All right, Doctor.”

  The twins led everyone down to the airlock. Dylan tapped a button on the controls and the outer door opened. “The door’s unlocked. Are they expecting guests?”

  After everyone entered, Jake pressed a button on the controls; the airlock pressurized and the gravity normalized.

  “Keep your helmets on,” Dylan said, “and stand against the walls. Okay, Jake, open it up.”

  The inner airlock door parted and opened. The twins, one on each side of the door, leaned over and raised their rifles.

  “Clear! There’s a hall intersection about five meters in,” Dylan said.

  The twins exited the airlock and the others followed them down the passage. Dylan peeked left around the corner into the intersecting passage, while Danner did the same on the right. Beckenbaur looked further down the corridor and saw a set of double doors.

  “Where to, now Doc?” Dylan asked.

  “Further in,” Bandele said. “Operations will be near the center of the dome.”

  The twins motioned for the others to proceed down the passage while they covered the intersection.

  “Stand back,” Dylan said as the twins stepped to the door. “Okay, Jake.” The doors parted, revealing a corridor curving off in both directions. “Which way, Doc?”

  “This corridor circles the central core of the station,” Talbot said. “Take your pick.”

  “Left, then.” The twins moved into the corridor, one on each side. “Clear!” Dylan said. They led the others down the curving passage, passing several small sliding doors on either side. After a few moments, they stopped at a hatch set into the right wall. A sign above read GENETICS.

  “Ready?” Danner pressed a button on the control panel and the door opened.

  “What the fuck is this?” Dylan said. The twins lowered their rifles and stepped through the door.

  Beckenbaur followed. Dim lights lit the room. Row upon row of upright bio-medical observation chambers, stacked two high, extended to the far wall, perhaps forty meters away.

  “There must be hundreds of them,” Heather
said.

  Beckenbaur walked past several chambers and noticed each had a transparent cover. A green light illuminated the contents of each: a hominin, naked, floating in a fluid. They were all of all ages, from a fetus to grown adult. Some seemed normal, while others looked to suffer from tumors or other defects like misshapen heads or limbs. Some of the chambers contained conjoined twins.

  Beckenbaur and the others walked along the rows as if in a daze. The room was a half-circle, the far wall straight. Arrayed against the wall was a half-circle of consoles surrounding a sitrep table. A holographic image above the table depicted an inverted T structure. In the wall behind the sitrep table stood a door labeled OPERATIONS.

  “What’s going on here?” Talbot asked.

  Heather approached the sitrep table, and, using gestures, rotated the holographic image, and then zoomed to the top of the inverted T. “Look at this! This long structure here has five smaller but similar structures within it, five around the edge, and a larger one in the middle. And that dome, that must be the surface station.” She pointed at the image. “That’s the attached landing bay.”

  “We’ve seen something like this before,” Bandele said.

  “It’s just like the Anuvi Artifact,” Beckenbaur said. “That’s a shaft leading down into the crust of this moon.” Is this moon the Harbinger artifact I’m looking for? “Zoom into the bottom of the shaft. There. Now rotate to a top down view.”

  “There’s only one level,” Bandele said. “This artifact is different from Anuvi.”

  The image displayed a cylindrical chamber with five lines of machinery radiating out from the central shafts.

  “Those are stasis chambers,” Heather said. “They were on the top-most level of the Anuvi Artifact, but this one has no control room.”

  “The moon probably can’t move, unlike Anuvi, but look here.” He rotated the image to reveal a thin line leading deeper into the moon. He zoomed the image outward, and the line continued all the way to the core of the moon. “They drilled to the core; the installation is getting power from the same place.”

  “But what about this genetics lab?” Heather said. She zoomed the image in to the stasis chambers. Beside the image of each chamber floated a DNA strand. Her eyes grew wide and she placed her hands over her mouth.