They rounded the corner back into the main control center to find Sir Rupert and Siru rocking out to Kid Rock’s “New Orleans.” Rachel had to bite back a laugh. She’d guess neither of them knew what any of the words meant, but the bird and the robot were for sure letting some good times roll. It was at moments like this she really missed social media.
Valyr managed to look amused and pained.
It looked like Bangle was getting in on the dance action a little, if the flashing lights were any indication. It was hard not to rock out to that song. Her feet started to tap. Her hips wanted to shift, and she wanted to join in. It was the finale, and they shouldn’t mess up a finale if they could help it, even if the possibly bad robots were incoming. Besides, it would help morale. She looked down. Valyr’s foot was tapping a little.
She grinned and let the song end. Before the next song could start, she turned it off.
Why did you turn off my music?
“We need to talk.” Rachel tried for firm, but with some “we’re a team” thrown in there. She’d seen it a lot, heard it a lot, but never tried it. She might have crossed her fingers. “I think you’d like to talk to these…guys, the bogey ship guys, and so would I.”
You armed yourselves so you can talk?
“Yes, we did. Sometimes talking requires power to be equalized.” She realized she was talking with her hands and tried to stop. “Right now, there are more of them, and I’m guessing their guns are bigger, too. Do you have weapons in this room that could neutralize them if they get in here?”
No.
“So if they get here, they hold all the power. They are bigger. There are more of them. They are better armed. So they are going to figure they are in charge and we have to do what they say. If they stop to say anything. They can do whatever they want. They could stab that thing they have into a console and take data from you.” Rachel let Bangle chew on that for a minute. “The thing with weapons, you don’t want to use them if you don’t have to, but they can bring…emphasis to a discussion, encourage listening. I was telling Valyr…”
I heard you.
Not a surprise, but it was a good reminder to be careful what she said out loud. This pause was so long, Rachel felt a drip of sweat run down her back. She picked up the water bottle she’d thrown at Valyr, twisted off the lid and took a drink. It didn’t help.
I would like to talk to them.
I’ll bet you would, Rachel thought. She hoped she was doing the right thing helping that happen. What if Bangle sided with the robots against them? There was so much that could go wrong. That was probably another good reason to be armed. If she got shot, she wouldn’t have to face the General or Doc.
Can you trust the soldiers on your ship to be wise?
“Yes.” Rachel didn’t hesitate. She didn’t dare hesitate. And she did trust them. They’d be wise if the robots were wise.
You may speak with your ships and they have my permission to land…if they agree to your terms.
“Thank you.” It wasn’t a plan yet, but it was the beginnings of a plan. Or possibly the beginning of the beginning of a plan. That could end up with her getting shot. Yay.
The bogey was going to get to Central Outpost ahead of them. Carey didn’t like it, but he couldn’t argue with the physics of space travel, even if he’d have liked to. Using a secure link, Carey was discussing options with Sergeant City—that was not a name you forgot. He hadn’t commented on the name when they met in the docking bay of the Doolittle. She was cute as her name but tough and businesslike enough to discourage the use of the word “cute” in her vicinity.
Neither of them liked the atmospherics on the surface or the fact that her squad would be coming down a narrow shaft after the hostiles. A seriously long shaft. In this case, the high ground was too high and too narrow.
“Do you have the necessary gear for that kind of descent?” Carey asked.
“We’re working on it, sir.”
Carey didn’t respond, so she added philosophically, “It’s an opportunity to excel.”
“I’d like better odds for excellence,” Carey admitted. His radio signaled an incoming message. He frowned. It hadn’t been long enough for his message to the Doolittle to get there, let alone get a message back. Of course, the Old Man could have sent a followup without waiting for his response. New Intel? He sure hoped so. He opened the message. Only it wasn’t a message. It was a direct comm link.
“Colonel Carey, this Dr. Rachel Frank, Sir Rupert’s breakfast buddy.”
Carey frowned. The mousy Dr. Frank? It could be her though he didn’t think he’d heard her say more than a dozen words. The parrot talked more than she did. Only now her words were a friendly rush. They did know each other but—how was she able to get in touch with him directly when the Old Man couldn’t?
“I’m hoping you know by now that Sir Rupert and I are here on Outpost Central. I won’t get into how that happened, because long story, short amount of time.”
Did he know that? Maybe that would be in the next briefing. Carey wished there was time for that story because City’s job just got more complicated. He keyed a private comm. “You getting this, City?”
“Yes.”
One word for a lot of unhappy.
Dr. Frank rushed on. “There is a ship bay with surface access connected to this outpost.”
There was, Carey knew, a huge ship bay on Kikk. He’d helped Donovan bring some of those ships up to the Doolittle. They hadn’t used the surface access because they hadn’t wanted the Dusan to see those ships leaving the planet. Those phased cloaks were cool, but unnerving the first time.
“I’ve secured permission for your transport craft to use the bay.”
Secured permission from who? Or was that whom, he wondered.
“City?“
“Our opportunity to excel is looking better.”
Carey pressed his “talk to Frank” button. “What’s the catch, doc?”
“We have some very…compelling reasons to attempt communication with the incoming bogey. Additionally, as you know, it is Expedition policy to talk first if at all possible.”
Carey frowned. There was a message in her message. Was she being held hostage? She did not sound under duress, nor had she used any of the standard duress words.
“She’s being monitored,” City said.
“By who?” Whom? He should find that out.
City did not answer this because she didn’t know either.
“No duress words,” Carey noted, but a message for sure. Carey considered his response for several moments, then opened the channel again. “Dr. Frank, your message is noted and understood.” He hoped. “Can you verify this bay will be a secure landing zone for my Marines?” He added, “It is pretty old, isn’t it?”
Would that take any suspicions off the question and get them another assurance they weren’t dropping into a trap? While he waited for her response, he created a message for Halliwell and got ready to send it. He wouldn’t get it until after it was over. But if things went south, at least they’d know what happened and why.
It didn’t take as long to get Frank’s reply.
“I can confirm that the bay will be a secure landing zone, Colonel. The transport ship will receive a signal from a beacon. They should follow this beacon to reach the surface access. The beacon will assist in the descent, so advise your pilots to accept assistance when the beacon asks. It is more than large enough to accommodate your transport and one other ship if you wish. It has pressure locks, to protect the outpost from the corrosive atmosphere. These will cycle automatically. Your ships don’t have to do anything once they are inside. I’m uncertain how much time the descent will take. After access to the shaft, your ship or ships will be added to the outpost’s internal comm system, so they can obtain a current situation report. Once they open the hatch into the wider outpost, they will need to be super quiet. Based on our readings, the bogeys will be inside the outpost prior to transport touchdown.” She paused, pr
obably to take a breath, then continued, “Just outside the ship bay there is an armory. This will be open if any of the Marines wish to, um, upgrade their weapons. I’m attaching a schematic and projected positions following this message.” Another pause. “I can’t emphasize enough how important it is that your people show restraint. There is a lot at stake. We need a good outcome. Thank you. Frank out.”
The line went dead before he could order her to get somewhere safe. His memory of Dr. Frank did not inspire confidence in a positive outcome. Mousy and quiet were not consistent with what was probably going to go down. He pulled up the schematic and shot a copy to City.
“What do you think, City?”
Frank wouldn’t send them into a trap without trying to give a warning, of that he was sure. After all, the parrot trusted her. His thoughts froze. The few times he’d seen Dr. Frank, the parrot had been hanging with her. Sir Rupert’s breakfast buddy. Was the parrot down there? If he was, it was all the permission he needed to act.
He wanted to pound something. Instead, he opened his comm to City. “Sergeant?”
“Sir?
“If you see…a parrot down there…protect it…at all costs.”
There was a long silence. “A…parrot…sir?”
“A parrot, City. If I tell you more, I’ll have to shoot you.”
Another long silence. “Yes, sir.” A shorter pause. “I have the schematic. I’m going to work out a plan.”
“Roger that.”
At least she had a schematic and some time to study it. And the keys to getting inside, he hoped. He needed to figure out his part of the plan. One other ship, Frank had said. He wanted to go down himself, but he was the CAG. It was his job to stay up here dealing with the bogey in orbit around the outpost. He considered his pilots. None of his people were going to be happy with escort duty when they might miss a firefight out here.
Only Frank didn’t want the firefight, down below or up here. The Old Man was trusting him to make the right decisions, too, mostly because he didn’t have any other choice. They both knew Carey might have to make decisions above his pay grade.
While he had confidence in himself as CAG, this diplomacy crap felt more like an opportunity to screw up.
Xaddek decided to be in the room when they activated the comet drive. If it didn’t work, there was no safe place on his ship. It was unlike him to be so reckless. He flexed a claw. Almost he could see the crew of Najer at his beck and call. And Kraye? He would be his victory meal.
“We’re ready, sir.”
He didn’t look ready. He looked like a man who was about to die. It was odd to trust this human more than the human trusted himself.
“And it can bring both ships?” He was not going up against the Najer without both of his best ships. And if they blew up together, well, no one would benefit from his death.
The engineer met his gaze without fear. Xaddek supposed he knew they both might die in a few seconds. “That’s the theory. I’ve tied both engines together. It might be a rough ride.”
If it works. The man didn’t speak the words, but they were there. In the room. Only Xaddek and this man knew they might all die very soon.
“Do it,” he ordered.
After a small hesitation, then a fatalistic shrug, his engineer did it.
There was a flash, a moment of elongation as if he were being stretched almost to the breaking point. All of his stomachs rebelled, all his eyes crossed from this abuse of normal. The engineer looked green as well.
How interesting to learn there were worse things than dying. It took most of his claws to hang on, then his spatial senses adjusted. Somewhat. He still felt not himself. Out of true.
He studied the countdown gauge. “Will we be able to maintain our systems with the power drain?” The comet drive was a greedy thing.
“Some systems will be affected,” his engineer admitted. He reached out, his hand shaking, to check those systems. “But we should make it to the coordinates you requested.”
“How fast?”
The engineer told him, and Xaddek’s mouth widened in his version of a smile. He would dine on human tonight. And speaking of human, he needed to have a chat with Savlf. If anything could settle his stomachs, it was spending time with her. And…convincing her how much she wanted to do what he asked. Oh yes, just thinking about it helped.
14
Rachel knew Valyr still wasn’t happy about her facing the robots with him. She wasn’t thrilled, despite the ray guns and the heat signature damping body armor, which may or may not be enough. This was not a video game even though she was dressed like a character in one. Just past the cold hard ball of fear in her gut was a tiny bit of sassy. She’d have totally been geeking out over her get up if the scary robots weren’t incoming.
She was assuming a lot. The biggie, that the robots could be reasoned with. If they were being controlled by someone from the ship, well, that could work for or against them. Was it something she’d seen, her gut instinct, or wishful thinking-desperate hope that the robots weren’t that hostile? Could she have a gut instinct about the robots? It seemed brassy.
Or wishful thinking. How ironic was it that the playlist started playing “I Take My Chances?”
Had she ever taken a chance before this? Okay, she’d gone to college when she was ten. Taken care of herself since was sixteen. Gone on an expedition to another galaxy. None of which felt as big as facing the heavily armed alien robots.
Her reasons for staying put felt right to her, despite the patent disbelief in Carey’s voice. None of them liked it, but she was the Expedition representative here. Okay, unofficial, and the last choice in at least two galaxies, but the only one here. Even Sir Rupert, who wasn’t technically one of them, had left—at her urging, but he had left. She paused a moment to wonder what the bird had seen as he turned for a last look before lifting off and soaring out of sight.
She might have sighed a bit about not being able to fly away, had shaken off the sensation that someone had just flown over her grave…
If she hadn’t been here, it would not be her problem, but she was here. And she might be a little to blame for what happened. Like a tiny pebble falling into an intergalactic pool. With a soundtrack. That made her smile. Bangle was seriously digging the music—though it had agreed to a lower volume at Valyr’s request. At the moment, it felt a bit like a doctor’s waiting room, or maybe the dentist’s, which was kind of funny. The doctor in her own waiting room? Okay, maybe it was ironic.
It wasn’t as fun when it was her in the irony crosshairs.
They were an incongruous reception committee. Valyr might be able to intimidate them a bit, all weaponized by the ray guns and body armor. Wasn’t sure the robots would care that he looked seriously smoking hot. As a scientist, she might be a little ashamed of that less than dispassionate description, but as a dedicated romance reader? Oh yeah, hotter than a griddle.
Siru was not suited up in anything. And he was just a freaking cute little dude. Like one of George Lucas’s better creations. Not even slightly scary. She’d half suggested he might want to go with Sir Rupert, but the robot had ignored her.
She had a feeling Siru was not a fan.
And then there was her, the geeky scientist. The body armor couldn’t make her taller. Or wiser. Or tell her how she’d act if she came under actual fire. But more than that, she was worried that the bogeys wouldn’t give them a chance to parley. If only these were Earth pirates—but there was no Captain Barbossa loosely reined in by the pirate’s laws. These robots probably wouldn’t recognize a white flag if she raised one.
While she obsessed about parley and white flags, they fortified themselves with some “yummy” energy bars from her backpack. Valyr had managed to produce some potable water for them since her water bottle wasn’t bottomless. She finished chewing and thoughtfully balled up the wrapping.
“I’ve been thinking…” She saw Valyr give her a wary look. Okay, so maybe she did think too much, but it was her
main skill set. “I’m assuming there is also a lock type system for the surface access tunnel? One that cleans the toxic atmosphere out of the box?”
That surface structure has been destroyed by time and planetary drift.
“And the tunnel itself can’t sustain a transport cubicle anymore?” She paced away, then back. “I’m concerned about the topside atmosphere getting in here.”
Rachel could almost feel Bangle thinking. And then she could see her thinking as data appeared and disappeared on a holo-screen. It finally settled into the view of the access tunnel, with data lines added.
A cubicle could be positioned halfway. There is an emergency hatch in the top of the cubicle.
Rachel moved up to study the cubicle. “Can it be cleaned and pressurized in a non-hostile way for the bogeys?” Assuming they needed that. Rachel had to bite back a grin. It would be kind of funny if they came in all big and bad and packing and then had to take an elevator ride down.
I will also have to set it to stop on this level.
No, they didn’t want the bogeys wandering around and getting lost. “Can you keep them out of that control?” They weren’t dealing with ordinary big and bad.
I can.
Bangle’s brief response felt wrapped in a huff.
“You’re the…system, Bangle,” Rachel said, admiringly, lifting her fist to bump—nothing. Yeah, she probably shouldn’t try to sound or look cool. Was it a coincidence that the music shifted abruptly to “Spooky?”
“You want them to get here?” Valyr might have sounded a bit incredulous. And a lot dubious.
“I want them not to blow up anything we might need later,” Rachel pointed out. Maybe they’d see it as a welcome mat and not as a confrontation. A girl could hope, couldn’t she?
Lost Valyr: Project Enterprise 7 Page 17
