T'aafhal Legacy 1: Ghosts of Orion

by Doug L. Hoffman

  The two friends popped out of the tunnel opening they were hiding in and moved toward the third creature. The one called Zz#tx had pinned the much smaller probe against the hard metallic wall of the chamber and oozed around it on all sides. As he moved, cracks formed in his dark stoney exterior revealing the deep red glow of molten rock within. Before Kq*zt or Gx!pk could intervene, Zz#tx finished ingesting the probe.

  “You silly old coot!” yelled Gx!pk. “Didn't you hear Qz@px say not to have contact with the aliens!”

  Zz#tx floated away from the wall and noticed the presence of the youngsters for the first time.

  “What? Why are you shouting at me, you impertinent young pebble. No respect for your elders.”

  “You just ate a visitor from an alien ship that's come snooping around our moon,” yelled Kq*zt. Zz#tx was known to be hard of hearing, though many thought it was just an excuse to ignore those he didn't want to listen to.

  “There was a little metal asteroid here in the chamber so I ate it. You're just mad because I didn't give you any.”

  “No, no, no,” Kq*zt muttered.

  “It wasn't very good, though,” the old lava creature continued. “Mostly lighter elements; no nutritional value whatsoever.”

  To reinforce that statement he out-gassed a plume of incandescent vapor. The others just floated and stared at the oldster.

  “Don't you understand, Zz#tx? You killed an alien, and there's no telling what they might do if they find out.”

  “Egh? Alien you say? Well it had a lot of useless metals in it. I'll probably be constipated for a dozen orbits.”

  “Crap!,” Gx!pk said in frustration.

  “Exactly!” said Zz#tx, “I won't be able to crap!”

  “Come on, Gx!pk. We need to go and tell the elders what happened.”

  “Yeah, I wonder how long it will take the aliens to figure out what happened.”

  “Uh-huh, and what they will do then.”

  As the pair departed, heading back toward the surface, Zz#tx belched again and wandered off into the chamber.

  CIC, Peggy Sue

  “Shuttle One, what just happened to recon drone two?” Billy Ray had been idly monitoring the drones' progress when the video feed from drone two suddenly went black.

  “Peggy Sue, we aren't sure what happened to the drone. The last we saw it was scanning the chamber when something collided with it. Its telemetry signal dropped but just before it quit the onboard temperature sensor went off the chart—it registered more than 1,000 degrees.”

  “That's what we saw as well, Shuttle One. Interrogative the status of the other two recon drones?”

  “We've halted the others in place.”

  “Roger that.”

  “There's something weird going on inside this metal ant heap. We are picking up a lot of electromagnetic radiation, some RF and some microwave. Trouble is, the damn moon is made of metal and it blocks most transmissions.” As he spoke, the video feed from drone three went dark.

  Now what? Bobby thought. What's taking out my drones? Before he could take any action telemetry from the remaining drone quit.

  “Shuttle One, we just lost the video from the other two drones.”

  “Roger, Peggy Sue, so did we. This time it looks like the telemetry links were broken.” The drones scattered small sensor relays behind them as they descended into the metal maze so they could stay in touch with the shuttle. Otherwise the solid metal of the moon would have soon rendered them incommunicado.

  “Understood. You're the commander in place, Mr. Danner. How do you suggest we proceed?”

  “I think we should find out what took out our drones. If there are other living creatures in this system—possibly hostile creatures—we need to know.”

  “Affirmative, if we have hostiles in system we need to warn the colonists.”

  “Roger, Peggy Sue. I think we need to send the Marines on a reconnaissance patrol.”

  Marine Squad

  “All right, listen up Marines,” the Gunny sent over the squad frequency. “Our objective is to find out what happened to the recon drones. We will form three groups and follow the same tracks as the drones until we either find the clown bots or some sign of what happened to them. Hopefully clown bots one and three only lost comm and are still functional.

  “Hitch and Jacobs, you will take the port track; Kato and Bosco the starboard track; Umky, Vinny and myself will take the center track which should lead to where bot two went dark. The clown bots dropped sensor relays along their paths as they descended so comm signals could get back out of this metal rat's nest. I want you to scatter extra ones as you go to make sure we don't lose contact. And get your mini-bots out in front and behind you. Questions?”

  “What if we get lost, Gunny?” asked Vinny.

  “Your suit's inertial tracking will tell you where you are and how you got there, plus we got the bots' track telemetry. Besides, DeSilva, you're with me, which means by definition you are not lost.”

  The squad chuckled, easing the tension that darkened their mood. They were, after all, about to enter a gigantic maze made out of solid metal that even their weaponry couldn't blast through. Splitting into three teams meant they would be even more isolated once they entered tunnels, but it made sense. The tunnels, spacious for the drones, were only wide enough to let the armored Marines advance single file. Even if they were attacked from both front and rear simultaneously, at most two of them would be able to engage the enemy at a time.

  “Hey, I bet we find our clown bot before you Navy jerk offs,” said Kato, trying to get a rise out of the two petty officers.

  “No way Jar Head, you guys got no sense of direction,” replied Hitch.

  “Why do you think the Navy always has to transport you Gyrenes to the battle zone?” added Jacobs. “Try not to get lost in the drain pipes.”

  Vinny made a rude hand signal and Rosey shook her head, a gesture concealed by her suit's full coverage helmet.

  “Enough! OK, Jacobs, your call sign is now Drainpipe One; Kato, you're Drainpipe Two; and I am Drainpipe Leader. Got that?”

  “Aye, aye, Gunny,” replied those named.

  “All right people, head out and stay in contact. Break. Shuttle One, Drainpipe Leader.”

  “Drainpipe Leader, Shuttle One. I read you five by five.”

  “Be advised we are heading out.”

  “Roger that, Drainpipe Leader. Good hunting.”

  The two teams of Marines quickly moved into their assigned tunnels. Hitch and Jacobs peered into the pitch black darkness of their entranceway a bit more hesitantly. With a last look back at the shuttle, they too disappeared into the maze.

  Chapter 13

  Shuttle One

  On the flight deck, Bobby and Mizuki watched the Marines' progress on the same screens they had monitored video from the recon bots. The remaining crew and scientists were looped in via the comm net and watched the teams moving down the almost featureless tunnels on the forward passenger compartment display. All were quiet, listening to the Marines chat with each other until Mizuki could stand it no longer.

  “Why did Rosey call herself 'Drainpipe Leader'?”

  “What?” replied Bobby, startled by the question amid the tense silence. “I guess it's Marine humor, sweetheart.”

  “Drainpipe?”

  “Yeah, a drainpipe leads down into a sewer or cesspool. Marines make fun of what they are facing to relieve tension before a battle.”

  “Are we expecting a battle?”

  “God I hope not. It would be like a shootout in a... well, a drainpipe. I'm just hoping that we find the missing drones and a rational explanation for why they all went off line.”

  “Hostile action by unknown aliens is a perfectly rational explanation.”

  “You know, you are too pretty to be so damned logical.”

  Mizuki looked at him and smiled, her dark eyes glistening. For reasons Bobby did not fully understand, his beloved came alive when facing danger. She was not the
shy and frightened young woman he had saved from the yakuza years ago—this Mizuki would have taken her katana and turned those mobsters into shashimi. She was no longer a damsel in distress but he loved her even more, his Japanese warrior princess.

  “Too bad we could not bring the aoi chō, I think they would have enjoyed exploring the tunnels.”

  “I'm sure they would love to explore the tunnels, but I don't think they would do well in hard vacuum. Maybe we will find another planet or space station where they can accompany us, Mizuki-chan.”

  On the leftmost screen, the one showing video from Matt Jacob's suit camera, progress came to a halt. Matt's voice called over the squad's frequency.

  “Drainpipe Leader, Drainpipe One.”

  Rosey's voice replied immediately. “Go, Drainpipe One.”

  “We have a bit of a problem here, Drainpipe Leader. The tunnel has narrowed to the point that we can't fit through.”

  “Roger that. Shuttle One, did you copy?”

  Crap, thought Bobby, I knew things were going too smoothly. He keyed the radio. “Affirmative, Drainpipe Leader. Can they find an alternate route around the constriction?”

  “There were a couple of cross tunnels back about twenty meters. We can try one of those.”

  “It's your call, Drainpipe Leader,” Bobby replied.

  “Roger, Shuttle One. Break. Drainpipe One, backtrack and try to find another way forward.”

  Drainpipe One

  “Roger, Drainpipe Leader. We are moving back to find another passageway.” Matt switched back to suit-to-suit in time to hear Hitch complaining.

  “Balls! Kato and Bosco are going to find their clown bot before we do at this rate.”

  “Have a little faith, Stevie. It ain't over till the clown bot sings. So turn your ass around and find us an off ramp.”

  With considerable effort, the two sailors managed to reverse their direction of travel in the cramped tunnel and float back the way they came. A short distance up the tunnel they found two side tunnels, one that headed east and turned up, and one that headed west and turned down.

  “What do you say, Bro. West and down?”

  “Works for me,” Matt replied, throwing a couple of sensor relays down the eastern side tunnel, just in case. The Marines' relays not only passed on communication signals but provided heat and motion detection as well. If something tried to sneak up behind them, or otherwise use the path they had come by, they would know about it.

  Inside the moon there was no light, visible or other wise—just what they brought with them. The near infrared light sources built into their suits illuminated the path ahead throwing the melted, almost smooth tunnel walls into stark relief. The suits could also generate visible and UV illumination on demand but IR mode had the added bonus of picking up living creatures from their body temperature. The view was displayed holographically on Matt and Stevie's heads up displays, along with thermal background readings and added depth ques.

  After gliding along for several minutes, the tunnel curved, flattening out to the west. Matt sent his small recon bot around the bend before navigating the corner himself. Unlike the bigger recon drones, the mini-bots had limited autonomous capability and, being about the size of a softball, mounted fewer sensors as well. Each suit of heavy armor came with a mini-bot integrated with its sensor suite.

  “Hey, Stevie. It looks like the tunnel intersects with a vertical shaft about ten meters ahead.”

  “Great. All I got is a view of your armored ass.”

  Matt drifted forward without comment. The moon was essentially a zero-gee environment, which allowed movement using the suit's built in repulsors. The repulsors were meant as an active defense against armor-piercing shaped charge rounds, causing them to detonate prematurely. They did this by creating a sharp but highly localized negative gravity gradient just prior to impact. They were not intended for continuous use nor strong enough to allow flight under any respectable gravity. Fortunately, this excursion was more of a spacewalk than a hike.

  “The vertical shaft ahead looks like a big one, and this tunnel widens out to form a bit of a platform.”

  “Great, Matt. Move over and let me see too.”

  Jacobs edged right and Hitch maneuvered to his left. Soon they lay side by side, both staring across the larger tunnel.

  “How wide do you make that?” asked Hitch.

  “My laser rangefinder says 7.2 meters, almost 24 feet.”

  “It looks like it goes all the way up to the surface,” he observed by rolling onto his back and sticking his head out of the side tunnel.

  “Get back in here, Stevie! If there are hostiles out there they could take a shot at you!”

  “Matt, there ain't nothing moving around out there,” Hitch replied as he rolled back onto his stomach. “Have your bot shine a light down the shaft and see if it attracts any attention.”

  “Right, let's kick over the hornet's nest,” he muttered as he ordered the mini-bot to do as Hitch asked. A brilliant white light slashed into the shaft, casting a bright ellipse on the far side tunnel wall. The illuminated ellipse grew more distorted as it ran down the wall until it became a circle on the shaft's floor. As the spotlight traversed the bottom of the shaft, roughly twenty meters below, flashes of color winked back at the two explorers—red, green, blue and white.

  “What's that sparkly stuff?” asked Hitch.

  “I don't know, but I think we need to find out.”

  “And just how do we do that, Bro?”

  “First we send my bot to take a closer look. If nothing takes it out then we go down ourselves.”

  “Just for shits and giggles?”

  “Right, Stevie. Just for shits and giggles.”

  Drainpipe Two

  Kwan and Boskovitch were making better time toward their objective than Hitch and Jacobs, not having encountered any obstacles or distractions. As they drifted downward, Bosco, in the trailing position, had little to look at but the tunnel wall—smooth, dark, and rippled like a giant's intestine. There he noticed something out of place.

  “Kato, stop! There is something here on the wall of the tunnel.”

  “What is it, Bosco? I haven't noticed anything unusual.”

  Bosco moved in for a closer look. Under light from his suit, a silver smear was visible against the dark metal of the tunnel wall.

  “It looks like the remains of a telemetry relay.”

  “The remains of a relay? What happened to it?”

  “It looks like something smashed it against the tunnel wall.”

  “Well that would explain why we lost track of the clown bot. And it also means that there's something down here other than us.”

  “Da, something big and heavy and strong.”

  Kato keyed the comm. “Drainpipe Leader, Drainpipe Two.”

  “Go Drainpipe Two.”

  “Gunny, Bosco found one of the drone's telemetry relays smashed against the tunnel wall.”

  “Smashed? How did that happen?”

  “It looks like something crushed it on purpose. I don't think we're alone down here.”

  “Roger, Drainpipe Two. Wait one. Shuttle One, did you copy that last?”

  “Roger, Drainpipe Leader. There's no way the relay could have been destroyed by accident?”

  “Shuttle One, Drainpipe Two. It was ground into the tunnel wall with considerable force. Something smashed it, either by accident or on purpose—something not us.”

  “Roger that, wait one.”

  There was a pause while the officers on the shuttle undoubtedly conferred with the Captain back on the Peggy Sue. The Marines waited quietly, awaiting further orders.

  “Drainpipe Leader, have Drainpipe Two leave additional relays and continue toward the drone's last known position. Carefully.”

  “Roger that, Shuttle One. OK, listen up people. This situation is starting to become real. Keep your eyes open and your mini-bots out on point. Report any more smashed relays or contact immediately.”

  “
Aye, aye, Gunny,” replied Kato. As the ensuing silence lengthened there came no response from Drainpipe One.

  * * * * *

  Now what? Rosey thought. “Drainpipe One, Drainpipe Leader. Did you copy that last?”

  Silence.

  Shit! Leave it to the fuckin' Navy. Can't let 'em off the ship without adult supervision. “Drainpipe One, Drainpipe Leader. Over.”

  More silence.

  “Shuttle One, Drainpipe Leader. Can you raise Drainpipe One?”

  “Negative, Drainpipe leader. We have lost telemetry from both Hitch and Jacobs. There were no threat indications, this is like the telemetry loss on the last two recon drones.”

  “Roger, Shuttle One. What do you advise?”

  Another pause while officers conferred.

  “Drainpipe Leader, we show you a half a klick from the chamber where recon two was lost. Proceed to your objective and hold in position.”

  “Roger, Shuttle One. Proceeding to the objective. Drainpipe Leader out.”

  Shuttle One

  “This is not good,” Bobby said out loud, though mostly to himself. “We have lost three recon drones and now a pair of sailors.”

  “It just looks like the telemetry link was lost,” Mizuki replied. “There was no indication that they were attacked.”

  “But cutting the communications link could be a prelude to an attack.”

  Before Mizuki could respond, indicators on the control panel associated with recon drone three came back to life. Then video reception was restored.

  “What's going on now? This is getting weirder by the minute.”

  Mizuki interrogated the control panel indicators and sent self diagnostic requests to the re-acquired drone. After a few seconds, waiting for the self-check results to come back, she smiled and looked up.

  “The drone is OK, Bobby. Everything checks out fine.”

  “Did it see anything while it was out of contact?”

  “No, I uploaded the event log and it shows nothing—no contact of any kind. It simply followed its programming and waited for communications to be restored.”

  “This is getting too freaky for me, I'm going to call the ship.” He switched to the inter-ship channel. “Peggy Sue, Shuttle One.”