As they headed down the corridor, he touched her arm and tried to find words for what puzzled him. She chuckled again.
“We have these movies, fictional video stories, and pets are always wandering off or running away at the wrong moment.”
He looked back. “Pet? I thought—”
“He’s a little of both. Depends on who you ask. But if I lose him, I’d better hope I don’t get out of this alive.” She smiled as she said this, but her eyes did not echo the smile.
This made his heart jerk so hard he could not breathe for several seconds. “Then we must all get out of this alive,” he stated. It was true that ambassadors required special handling, but she was not a bodyguard. At least, she appeared to be a scientist, not unlike himself, though she had said she could shoot.
“I’d recommend hiding or leaving,” she admitted, “if I were sure the robots just wanted more data. Bangle could give up some stuff, but…”
“…we do not know if it is only data they seek…” his voice trailed off, but his thoughts continued. It was not supposed to be his task to protect the chambers, but it was what it was. He sighed and was surprised when her hand slid into his. He looked down and felt his heart clench oddly once more.
“Well, we’ll just have to do our best to defend the castle.”
It was a call to action said rather thoughtfully. Castle? He thought he knew what this word meant. He stopped by a hatch. “This is the armory, but the hanger bay is there.”
Her eyes lit up. “I think we should make the time to look at the space ships, and I’m not just saying that because I want to see them. Even though I do.”
He nodded agreement. “If we need to retreat, I believe this is our only way off this planet.” If any of these ships were still operational. They had been dormant as long as he had. And Bangle would have to let them access the hanger bay shaft to the surface.
He placed his palm on the pad, and the large doors slid slowly back, almost as if they’d forgotten how. The air inside was stale and the pause before the lights began to spread, caused several moments of concern.
“For a minute, I thought it wasn’t going to work,” Rachel admitted, her eyes wide, her mouth in an “O” of pleased surprise as she looked from one side to the other, then back once more.
It was, by their standards, a small bay. It had not been where the main fleet had been housed. There were defensive craft, transport vehicles, and—
Rachel drew in an awed, shaky breath. “This is so cool.”
The air swirling around them was not warm, he conceded, but he did not sense that was her meaning. He studied her face as she tried to see it all at the same time. Her pure delight did strange things to his insides. Uncomfortable, but pleasing. His fingers, entwined with hers, tingled and he had to restrain himself from pulling her close and taking the kiss that had been interrupted. They lacked time for such things though he may regret the choice later if things went badly for them.
Her head tipped. “I can guess what they are for, except for those.”
Her finger pointed to an upper section of docking. With some reluctance, he followed her pointing finger with his gaze.
“Those are the Dragon Ships,” he said slowly. Built in concert with the Draze who had been the first to help them communicate with animal species. Seven ships—his thoughts stalled out when his gaze found the three empty slots. When the call of the Urclock came, when it was once again needed to reform the tangram, all the ships were supposed to depart together. He frowned. He’d have said it was not possible—but apparently, it was.
“Something wrong?” Rachel asked, tugging gently on his hand. When he looked her direction, she made a face. “That was a dumb question. Should have asked what is going well, right?”
He found he could chuckle. He drew them over to a monitoring station, resisting the temptation to find out what had triggered the three ships to leave. That must wait on current events. Instead, he first activated the station. It would take it some time to resume its full function and then its first action would be a check of all ships’ status.
“It will take time for all the systems to come online. Let us go to the armory,” he said.
With a last, thoughtful look, Rachel allowed him to lead her back to the armory.
“I hope there are ray guns,” she said. When he could not stop his brows from arching, she added, “It’s a geek thing.”
It was the most human reaction CabeX had had for a long time, this relief that events were moving too quickly for a confession about the messages. It was not logical. They had time for both and more. All of them could do millions of calculations and actions. The only time they were limited was during physical activity. Like humans, they could only do one physical action at a time, but movement did not limit their processing processes. And they could react much faster than any human as the Quh'y had learned too late.
Still, he took the excuse. And found he rationalized—another new old emotion. There had not been a follow-up message, as was usual. He tried to feel relief that the messages may have resolved themselves. That the sender might be past helping. He did not let himself think that it might be a distance issue.
He would not…hope.
Was it hope he felt? He was not sure. It had been too long to remember irrational hope. Their ship, all the crew, operated on hope, but it was not irrational. It was very focused and strategic. A most attainable hope.
He took his place on the bridge, connected physically to the ship’s controls. Kraye was in his place, and AzumC was in the secondary pilot’s position. All the crew were at their stations and on alert status.
“Update report.” CabeX used voice commands for the benefit of Kraye.
MicroP reported for him and RaptorZ. “Target is still resisting the probe. We are unable to scan the interior. The last scan showed a new heat signature. Assume the outpost is on high alert.”
CabeX knew this, but Kraye had not. Sometimes it was boring always to know.
“Well, they did know we were coming?” Kraye said philosophically. “Any idea how much resistance we should expect?”
“Resistance has been in proportion to our intrusion attempts so far,” MicroP said.
Was the outpost truly sentient? Or reacting to their program? They did not wish to go to war with one of their own kind, but this made him only more determined to gain access. What was it protecting? Could it protect them?
“What about negotiating with it?” Kraye asked.
“If we open a channel of communication, we risk an attack on our systems,” MicroP told him. “It would be more optimal to negotiate face-to-face.”
If their firewall expert were unwilling to risk their systems over a comm channel, CabeX would not override him, no matter how much he too desired advanced negotiations. It would be initially safer—but ultimately more difficult—to attempt negotiating after using force to enter the complex.
He had no doubt they could breach any physical barriers. Like the previous outpost, this one had an access tunnel from the surface. For them, this was a path inside. There was no resistance the outpost could mount that could keep them out.
The toxic atmosphere was no barrier either though Kraye would need special protective gear. All felt it was advisable he join the breach team since there was a minor human presence. In normal conditions, their imposing physical form was an inducement to give them what they wanted. This time? He sensed this might be an additional hurdle since they hoped to talk. And if their hope was false? Well, then they would return to their original goal, seeking intel that could be sold.
If there was a sentient system and if they were able to convince it to talk, the risk went up for both it and them. MicroP believed he’d built enough safeguards into their internal firewalls, but they would not know if he failed. They would simply cease to be themselves.
“Death is always the risk,” ScytheQ pointed out with her usual dispassion. Perhaps it was a side effect of her primary function as their strat
egy expert.
For this reason, he was limiting their exposure while on the surface. Their standard breach team—a holdover from their time as slave mercenaries—was a team of six. A pilot and five to breach a building. Even a building with no one in it. This time only two of them and Kraye would be at risk. Kraye had volunteered without hesitation, which was optimal. Even their comms to the ship would be heavily fire-walled. It increased their risk because it slowed down response time, but CabeX assessed that the risk was worth it to stop a spread of malicious coding if any of the team were compromised. The one exception was Kraye’s comms since he could not put them at risk. But his responses, being human, were slower than their slowed responses could ever be.
They had also added another level of sensitivity to their self-destruct code. It was the first thing a malicious code would go after, or so they assumed. Any attempt to access their self-destruct would trigger a fast countdown. Depending on the level of compromise, the rest of the team would shield or sympathetically detonate. There would not be much of the outpost left if this occurred.
The freedom and safety of all overrode the need of a single individual or collateral damage to their target.
He turned his cranium toward Kraye. “You do not need to be on alert.” For the rest of his crew, a long alert was optimum. For a human… “You will be weary. I will summon you when it is time to gear up.”
He appeared to hesitate, but merely nodded and began to unstrap.
“You have input to offer?”
“I was going to point out we could leave, retreat, but you’d always wonder, wouldn’t you?”
He had not known that Kraye fully understood the risk inherent in this mission. It seemed the human did understand. His cranium moved in a slow nod. “Yes, we would always wonder.”
“You are moving differently,” Valyr observed.
Rachel looked up at him. Way up. Dang, the dude was tall. Made her feel even shorter, but since he made her feel other, better things, she’d move on from that.
“It’s the body armor and the ray guns.” It had taken time to find her size, but dang, it was nice. Easy to move in and the weapons were a geek’s dream. Sleek silver and gold with multiple settings that went from ouch to die sucker. “Makes me feel less like the duck in the shooting gallery and more Wonder Woman.” In point of fact, what it made her feel was powerful, which could be delusional. Oh, she hadn’t lied when she said she could point and shoot. And ten times out of ten she hit her target. It was the getting shot at part, the lack of cover, lack of back up, lack of real experience as a bad-a that bothered her.
“Shooting gallery?”
Valyr was so cute when he was puzzled.
“It’s an Earth thing, an Earth carnival thing,” she amended.
“Earth.”
His tone had nothing questioning in it. Not even slightly. It was devoid of inflection. So much so that a trickle of ice danced down her back. She tried for casual as she turned toward him.
“You’ve heard of Earth?” He nodded, still without expression. Okay, a bit boggled and yet, well, there were signs. It was just that all the aliens they’d met so far were all, like Earth? Where is that? Not the single word so devoid of emphasis that it exploded with emphasis.
“Is that…a problem?” Had they done something in the past to tick off his people or something?
“I did not realize…” he began, then seemed to give himself a shake. “I have indeed slept a long time. So much has changed.”
The bleakness of his tone made her heart clutch. She hadn’t thought—he’d awakened to a future he couldn’t have expected, to strangers instead of—did he have a loved one back there in the chambers? Was that who he wanted to protect? Why was he willing to fight?
“I can’t imagine,” she swallowed, “how hard this must be for you.” She’d thought it bold to travel to another galaxy leaving…no one behind. Empty rooms and an empty office. No reason to go back, except, it was familiar. She glanced around. Even if this was familiar, it must feel alien to him.
He paused, staring into the distance. Then he gave a small shake and smiled down at her though she could see the effort it cost him. “It is not what I expected, but it is the not knowing that troubles me. Not knowing…” His voice trailed off.
She thought about pointing out that, even with the long sleep, his people were technologically ahead of them, but she didn’t. It wasn’t in her brief to tell him about Earth. Despite seeing him in less than his briefs. Okay, not a good time to bring back that memory. Color heated her cheeks. She hoped they weren’t flaming. She tried to use her hair to hide the cheeks and went for a subject change.
“So, I’ve been thinking…” And that was about as subtle as an elephant in a china shop, but she forged ahead because she couldn’t go back from that. “…about strategy. I’m not in Doc’s league, but I play a pretty mean video game. They are all about strategy and tactics,” she added hastily, to forgo more questions about obscure Earth terms or about Doc, who was as ghosty as their bogey’s code and whose name she probably should not have spoken out loud to anyone, let alone a recently defrosted alien.
Valyr might have looked a bit bemused. Or skeptical.
He hesitated, then said, “Would it not be better for you to conceal yourself? There are many places where you could hide. It is not your job to defend this place.”
She didn’t think it was his either. And he was right, in some ways. If she were in contact with the Expedition, with the General, she’d be ordered to stand down to a secure location—assuming that was possible—since they didn’t know the intentions of the incoming robots. She didn’t need anyone to tell her that her rating was as a geek, not a soldier. She’d pointed that out to herself pretty much from the moment she’d realized she was in trouble. She’d spoken the truth when she said she could point and shoot. She could still remember the looks of surprise on her instructors’ faces. She hadn’t known how to explain it, the seeming ability her mind had to calculate the range and distance, the near perfect trajectory. The equations would form, and she’d fire. The only thing that had messed with her math was the wind, but that wouldn’t be a problem here.
She’d be able to hit her target. If she could engage. Because that was the real question. This wasn’t a simulation, a game or anything like it. Could she do it? Could she fire at a target that was walking? Talking? Shooting at her?
Should she do this? Well, that didn’t feel like a question. She was surprised to find that she felt a duty to her team, to the Expedition. They were a team of sorts. All connected by the need to do their part so that they all prospered in this alien environment.
Connected.
She wasn’t sure when it happened, but it had. She was part of the Expedition, not just a doctor on an expedition. She’d opened this can of worms, and she had to do her best to contain it until the cavalry arrived. Was this what they called esprit de corp? If it was, she’d caught it. She lifted her lashes and met Valyr’s gaze. Saw him register her resolution. Saw him sigh.
“Trust me, if our guys were here, I’d so be hiding. But they aren’t.” She bit her lower lip. “I have to do…my part. I’m here, and they aren’t.”
“You are a scientist, not a soldier.”
“I’m a scientist who has received enough training to do this.” She hoped. “I won’t let you down.”
“Let me down?” He rubbed his face, turning away. “You could not—you could get hurt.”
She put a hand on his arm so that he turned to look at her. “I’ve been hurt.” The memory of it was still enough to rock her back on her alien boots’ heels. “I’m still standing.”
He covered her hand with his. It would have been a lot better without the body armor. But something more happened at that moment. They also solidified into a team of sorts. Not a lover team, but two people resolved to do their best.
“All right then.” She took a last look around. The armory was beyond cool and she did not want to leave it that bad.
It even had a target area where Valyr had shown her how to use her hand ray gun and ray rifle. They were both lightweight, and it only took her a couple of shots to find her zone, to get her firing solutions going. “I’ve been thinking about that ship bay. It has to open up to the surface for the ships to leave, right?”
It was an obvious question, but she happened to know the Garradians had phased cloaking that allowed their ships to move through a solid mass. So not really that obvious.
“That is correct. It is a system of hatches because the atmosphere is somewhat toxic, but yes, it does eventually give access to the surface.”
It was her turn to nod. “We have something like that for deep sea diving. Or space walks. Atmosphere in, atmosphere out.” And canal locks. Water up. Water down. “Sounds like it takes a while to navigate?”
“We worked to improve the speed, but yes, it does take time. If the ships are still functioning, we should be able to egress safely. I did not propose this idea because of Bangle.”
“Yeah, we can’t leave Bangle,” Rachel agreed. “Actually, I was thinking of a ship or ships coming in.”
Valyr halted for a moment. “Your squadron?”
“Part of it. One of the ships is a, well, a troop transport. I’m guessing Marines are on board, though if I can get Bangle to let me talk to them, we’d know for sure. If they could drop down into the bay, that could tip the balance of power our way or at least equalize it.”
He frowned. “I am concerned about the firing of weapons damaging—”
“I am, too. What we want, what we need is to for everyone to talk. Our expedition has already provided…assistance…in this galaxy. If they need help, well, then we see if we can give it. If they are just scavengers, then we invite them to exit the galaxy post haste.”
“You wish to meet them? To talk to them?’
“Well, that’s why we are out there. To boldly go where we haven’t gone before, meet new people, and talk to them, learn from them, and teach them about us.” She didn’t add Sara’s Donovan’s “and shoot them.” She was guessing he wouldn’t get the joke. Too many people thought military types were shoot first, think later types. She might have thought that before spending months training and traveling with them. The last thing they wanted was to get into a firefight. But if they did, they intended to win. She’d feel a lot better if they had some of them at their back sooner rather than later. Definitely, before someone got shot.
Lost Valyr: Project Enterprise 7 Page 16
