Sonata in Orionis (Earth Song Cycle Book 2)

by Mark Wandrey

  “Sooner or later, you have to say yes to one of them, or they’ll give up.”

  “I’m not ready to have sex,” she said quickly, a little nervousness in her voice.

  “I wasn’t suggesting that. Watching a movie in Chelan, holding hands, maybe a kiss or two isn’t beyond reason, is it?”

  “I suppose not.” She went back to work, and she began to think about it. Boys were a subject of deep interest for weeks to come.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 13

  Octember 22nd, 516 AE

  Chosen Headquarters, Steven’s Pass

  A month later Minu’s team was suddenly called into the field again. The briefing with the launch controller, Chosen Carlson, was a quick one, done as they moved down the hall to the portal. Minu didn’t really know the new mission planner. He’d taken over when Dram became Second Among the Chosen, replacing Jacob. Her entire science team was going with her, along with a squad of five scouts.

  “It looks like a recon scout team on the frontier world GBX2334 found an alien cache with some prime goodies,” Carlson explained. “I need your science team to pop out there, evaluate the find, and decide if it’s worth bringing home immediately.”

  “What did they find?”

  “If I knew that, we wouldn’t need you,” he said tersely.

  Minu nodded, double-checking all her gear was in place. She now carried two computers in holsters on her belt, but that was nothing compared to Pip’s four. The more into science she got, the more hands-on she became. The more classes she tackled, the more data she seemed to need; hence the additional tablets. Carlson noticed her carefully making sure the computers were secure and shook his head. “You’re going native?” he asked and pointedly eyed her four gold stars. “I thought you were in Command.”

  “Occupational hazard,” she mumbled under her breath. Dram, who’d come in during the briefing, overheard her and laughed heartily.

  “This is exactly the sort of operation Jovich and I envisioned when we created your team,” the big man explained. “We need scientists that can hit the ground running. Before you took over, it would take us days to get a team of scientists out there to investigate.”

  “What are you doing in the jump-off room?” Minu asked. “Doesn’t the Second Among the Chosen have more important things to do?”

  “Pining away for my old job,” he admitted with a shrug.

  “Why not bring the cache back, regardless?”

  “It’s complicated. You’ll see when you get there.”

  Up ahead in the ready room, her science team was assembling. Only Pip was ready on such short notice, and she felt a stab of annoyance. She resolved to hold monthly readiness drills from now on, especially after finding out that being ready to depart on missions at a moment’s notice was part of the reason they’d put her in command of a group of scientists. Why hadn’t they bothered to let her in on the plan? Carlson waved her toward her team as a way of letting her know time was short.

  “What’s up, boss?” Pip asked without looking up from his equipment check. Minu gave him a sitrep as she scanned the others. Alijah was trying to get his kit together, while Mandi argued with Terry about some piece of heavy equipment she wanted to take but was unwilling to carry herself.

  “Wonder what they found?” Pip asked as he shouldered his pack. She was proud of how far he’d come as a Chosen. His pack looked well-assembled and well within his ability to handle. As she watched him settle it in place, she was surprised by the strength in his shoulders. Had he been working out? As the squad of scouts arrived, she put the thought aside. Minu looked them over but didn’t recognize any of them. The squad was composed of four-stars lead by a three-star, so she knew this was big, and that she wouldn’t be in charge. She’d defer to the superior three black stars of the scout leader for this mission.

  “We’ll find out what it is in a few minutes,” she told Pip, then glanced around to check the rest of her team. They were finishing up. “We haven’t had much free time to talk lately,” she said to her friend. Pip nodded as he checked the holstered tablets one more time, tugging at each one to make sure he couldn’t dislodge it. “Has there been any progress in researching the Squeen?”

  “I was making some headway in the Concordian database a few weeks ago, but I got shut out.”

  “Like someone directly interfered?” Minu asked.

  “Exactly. Looks like there might be more to the Squeen than we realized.”

  Minu looked at Carlson and saw he was chatting with the scout leader. “It’s too bad we didn’t go into that village and try to make contact when we first spotted them.”

  “Considering they are an ‘extinct’ species, we might have received a less than friendly reception.” Carlson waved to get Minu’s attention, and she started herding her people toward the door. “Still, I’m not giving up. I hate an unsolved mystery.”

  “Just don’t get your fingers burned.”

  “Hey, it’s me!”

  Outside, they gathered in front of the portal, and Minu met Capella, the three-star scout leader. “Good to meet you, Minu,” he said, grinning widely. His broad face, prominent nose, and thick brown hair spoke of European ancestry. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “All good, I hope.” She smiled back. He was probably thirty and in peak physical condition. Most likely from the Boglands, same as Gregg. Though his build was athletic, he wasn’t as muscled as Minu’s friend.

  “Oh, mostly. Well, even though I’m in charge, it’s a scientific recon, so I’ll follow your lead. I know you’re a competent field leader, so we’ll work through this together.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Carlson handed them each a control rod, which was SOP with mixed teams, then waved to the controllers behind their protective force field. The portal flashed to life, and they passed through onto FAX544. Thankfully, they were only on the perpetually snow-covered world long enough for Capella to activate the next portal program. They all donned protective breathing masks before moving through onto GBX2334. Minu kept her control rod in her thigh pocket.

  “I hate borderline worlds,” Pip yelled over the howling wind of the planet. She was glad they’d been warned about the atmospheric conditions before coming through. Tiny scrubbers in the masks cleaned the air, and goggles protected their eyes. GBX2334’s air was filled with nearly undetectable fine silica powder that could permanently damage lungs, not to mention a high concentration of methane, chlorine, and sulfur. It all combined to make the world smell like an open latrine situated next to a swimming pool in hell.

  Three scouts from another team waited. Minu met the team leader, and he quickly directed her away from the portal. “It’s not safe here!” he yelled, so she could hear him through his more complex helmet and over the merciless wind.

  “This is horrible,” she replied as they moved toward a nearby structure.

  “If you think this is bad, wait until morning.” As they marched, she could feel the wind stinging the exposed skin of her neck and hands. The scout’s full helmet and gloves made good sense on this planet. Minu glanced up at the dimly-glowing orange star in the sky and cast him a curious look. He followed her gaze and laughed. “That’s a moon. This is a trinary system; during full daylight the surface reaches almost a hundred degrees. My computer said there’s a full night only once every three weeks on this rock. Luckily there are three large moons that cover the sun from time to time. Without those, I doubt the temperature would dip below seventy.” As the team moved into the building, one of the stars came out from behind the moon. The blast of heat was intense, even through her protective jumpsuit.

  “Wow,” she said, and they hurried under cover as quickly as possible. They carried the last of the equipment indoors just as another sun started to emerge, and her suit’s radiation alarm chirped in her ear. “This is unbelievable,” she said. “How could anyone have ever lived here? And it’s only rated a B on the index!”

  “Mostly because of the ci
ties,” he said as the doors automatically closed out the screaming wind, heat, and radiation. Artificial light came on, and the Concordian-designed air lock automatically began cycling.

  “Why the hell did they put a portal outside on this hellhole?”

  “It’s a cargo portal, probably used by bots and automated transports. We haven’t been using the indoor portals because of alien traffic,” he explained. He pulled his helmet off, attached it to a clip on his belt, then held out a hand. “I’m Bill Richardson.”

  “Minu Alma,” she replied and took the offered hand. He was quite the opposite of Capella, who was stowing his breathing mask. Richardson was slender and surprisingly tall; his thin face and hawkish eyes gave him a guarded appearance. Four black stars adorned his sleeve, and she noticed he had his weapon out and slung over a shoulder. Capella caught his eye and nodded; Richardson nodded back. Scouts worked together a lot, and these two were obviously acquainted. “We’re just here to help you evaluate the find.”

  “I’m glad, too. Tech isn’t my thing.” He tapped the butt stock of his gun and gestured to his team. “Better have everyone ready their weapons.”

  “Have you had trouble?”

  “Nothing yet, but there’s been conflict on this planet several times in the past. You’ll have to see the cache before we can say more.”

  Minu nodded and pulled her weapon from the special pouch on the side of her pack. Terry and Alijah saw what she was doing and began readying their own weapons, although a bit less competently. Again, she thought of readiness drills. Pip got his gun out without hesitation. Mandi watched them with distaste. As a civilian, she was unarmed. “Once you get your people organized, follow us.” The rest of Richardson’s team was either deployed or already watching the find. The inside door of the air lock hissed inward, and he led them into the worn-looking building and down several gradually descending ramps. “Whatever species built these cities wasn’t like us,” he said, as they walked. “There are no stairs anywhere.” The farther they got from the entrance, the quieter it became. Her suit told her the air was cleaner.

  “It was probably some sort of slithering species like the T’Chillen,” Pip offered. Richardson jerked his head around. All it took was a mention of the species to set most scouts on edge.

  “Maybe stairs scared them.” Alijah joked, but no one laughed.

  After descending about a hundred meters, they came to a maglev transit tube station of common Concordian design. Distant computers controlled a fleet of varying-sized cars which shuttled beings all over the cities. Minu looked into the dark tunnel, which extended in both directions from the protective railing. She dreaded the long walk to their destination. Then there was a sudden rush of wind as a tram slid into view.

  “It’s still working?”

  “Almost everything does,” Richardson confirmed. The tram silently and smoothly came to a stop, doors pivoting open on cue, and the station’s safety rail rose out of the way. They climbed aboard, and the tram pulled away automatically. Once underway, Richardson walked over to a wall, where a map lit up as he approached. From the map, Minu could tell it was an incredibly intricate transportation system, composed of hundreds of lines and branches. Richardson reached out and touched a spot on the map, which flashed in reply before going dark.

  “How extensive is the system?” she asked.

  “It’s planet-wide. There’s more than a hundred thousand miles of tramway. The map only displays local destinations unless you change modes.”

  The tram ride took almost an hour. When it eventually came to a stop, they were in the center of a huge dome, carved from the living bedrock of the planet. All along the walls, lights glimmered, and catwalks crossed back and forth as though cobwebs covered the ceiling. From the floor of the dome, buildings of glass and steel stabbed toward the ceiling. This further confused Minu.

  “There are thousands of Class-A worlds in the galaxy. Why bother expending all this effort on a world highly unsuitable to whatever species lived here?”

  “Ask Ted,” Pip said, “he has a theory.”

  “Save me the time and let me in on it.”

  “It follows his other theory, that the Concordia are in decline. The empire was once so populated even borderline worlds like this were used.”

  Minu had to give Ted his due. Faced with scenes like this, it made more and more sense. “Okay, but he was talking about a power shortage; they obviously didn’t have that problem here.” She gestured expansively, taking in all the power consumed by the huge dome.

  “I don’t think he claims to have all the answers.”

  Richardson led them away from the station to a service door, only the door wasn’t there anymore. Something had torn it away, and it lay a few meters to the side, nearly bent in half. “How did your team find this?” she asked Richardson. “There must be dozens of cities, each with hundreds of tram stops. It would have taken your team years to find it.”

  “Actually, we got on the tram and it brought us right here.” Minu looked at him in surprise, then exchanged confused looks with Pip. “Our logistics person thinks that whoever left the stash programmed the tram to come straight here to make it easier to find again.”

  “That would require them to assume no one would come along and use the tram before they did,” Pip said.

  “Exactly,” Richardson agreed.

  “Which explains the big hurry,” Minu said. “Whoever left this cache is going to come back for it, and soon.” Richardson nodded his head.

  After going through the service door, they found a tightly-turning ramp going down. The ceiling was a little over a meter high, which forced them all, even Minu, to crouch uncomfortably. Luckily, the ramp only descended a few dozen meters, then ended in a large equipment room. All sorts of machines sat around, some working, others quiet. Minu suspected it was part of the tram’s mechanism. Two members of Richardson’s team and dozens of the nearly ubiquitous Concordian-made cargo containers were also in the room. Each case was a meter long and half meter across its hexagonal cross section. They were devoid of any identification marks, the sure sign of a cache. But there had been no attempt to disguise or hide them. Taken with the pre-programmed tram and the broken door, it all added up to a very hasty, and equally temporary, cache.

  “What do we have?” Minu asked Richardson. He waved her over to one of the cargo modules with its top removed. Her science team stood around it, their jaws hanging open. Minu moved closer as Pip reached inside and fished out one of the devices. He held it so Minu could get a better look. Even unassembled, it was impossible to mistake what was in his hands. She’d been staring at the schematics of a similar device for months on end. It was the business end of a beamcaster. “Jackpot,” she whispered. There were big grins all around.

  “Is that a beamcaster?!” Richardson said, his eyes wide.

  “You bet,” Pip said, laying one on the floor and taking digital images. He downloaded them into a tablet to index against their computer database. “I’d say there’s about a ninety-percent chance this is a T’Chillen design.” Elation turned to quiet in an instant. “The computer says ten species use this design, but only five of them are perfect matches based on this build-out.” Richardson and Capella exchanged glances, the latter scratching his chin. It was far from a clear-cut case of finders-keepers.

  “How sure are you it’s a snake design?” one of Richardson’s scouts asked.

  “The core weapon components are state-of-the-art and in current production. The basic system has several uses when it comes off the assembly line. These are beamcasters, which are basically portable particle accelerators.”

  “Cut to the chase, Pip,” Minu encouraged him.

  “This is the snakes’ favorite weapon, and they’re horribly expensive,” Pip said.

  “Only higher-order species can afford them,” Minu said. Pip nodded.

  “That’s still not enough evidence to be sure these belong to the snakes,” Capella said.

  Alijah and
Terry opened another case as the discussion continued. Alijah held up another component, a fabricated stock. Unlike a gun stock the humans would use, this one more closely resembled a corkscrew. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to see the T’Chillen’s tentacle-arms curling around the grip.

  “And the T’Chillen are the only senior reptilian species,” Alijah told them.

  Capella, being the person in charge, faced some tough decisions. He went over and looked at the corkscrew gun stock, then glanced at Pip’s computer search results, before speaking. “So, we have about thirty cargo modules full of uber-tech snake hardware, probably worth more than our entire damn planet. Either someone stole this from the snakes, in which case they’ll be hot to get it back, or they stashed it here themselves, in which case they’ll be pissed if they find it gone.”

  “Any way you look at it, if we take this stuff, someone’s going to be mad.” Richardson said. It was hard to argue with good, old-fashioned logic.

  “Pip,” Minu said, “work with their logistics person and run a full inventory.”

  “That’ll take an hour or so,” he said, “these things are in pieces and we’ve never put one together.”

  “You don’t think I know that? We need to have our eyes wide-open here.”

  “You’re not actually thinking of taking this shit, are you?”

  Minu rubbed her chin silently, running the scenario through her head. “Can you take the guts out and modify them to work for us?”

  “Sure, that’s a hell of a lot easier than trying to build one from scratch. That doesn’t get around the fact that we’re up against the Rules of Engagement.”

  “We’re not under attack,” Richardson said, “the ROE don’t cover scavenging. We’ve stolen from the snakes before…”

  “And we’ll do it again,” Capella agreed.

  “This is too good to pass up,” Minu said with a nod.

  As promised, Pip finished the inventory an hour later. He, Alijah, Mandi, and Terry assembled two of the weapons. They claimed that was the only way to verify the cases didn’t contain random spare parts; Minu suspected it was also for fun. Twenty of the cases held two dozen central weapon build-outs each. The other ten contained stocks, assembly parts, and magazines holding fully charged EPCs. They had four hundred and eighty guns, worth millions of credits. The Chosen only owned five beamcasters, purchased as a lot from a weapons dealer years earlier. They were ancient, worn-out models that had cost more than a small factory. What was in front of her not only represented a vast fortune to their poor world, it was also more firepower than the Chosen had ever been able to afford. Here was the means to equip a human army on par with any in the Concordia.