“I’ll see what I’ve got,” said Lester, fishing in his pack for something suitable.
“Anything on that console, Corporal Freeman?” asked Conway.
“I’ve got a front-end menu, sir,” Freeman replied, both hands on the edge of the console as he peered at one of the screens.
“And?”
“It’s titled Transport Control.” Freeman wasn’t shy when it came to testing alien tech and he stabbed enthusiastically at the buttons again.
“Anything?”
“It’s all locked down.” Freeman hesitated with his finger poised over a button. “Last logon was two weeks ago, sir.”
“Maybe the Raggers like a holiday as well.”
“No, sir – two weeks ago was the last logon date for whatever mainframe every one of these consoles ties into.”
Conway blinked. “The enemy stopped operations in this facility?”
“I don’t know.” Freeman resumed prodding buttons. “I think access to the mainframe has been disabled from elsewhere.”
“Why not just turn it off if they were leaving everything behind?” asked Barron.
“It is possible that the mainframe controls other parts of the experimental hardware and has therefore been left operational,” said Hacher.
“Like if they turned it off, everything would go bang?” said Kemp.
“That is a possibility.”
“I’m beginning to like this place less and less,” muttered Conway. “Corporal Freeman, leave that console alone – we’re going through the door over there once Private Lester has finished with it.”
“I’m ready to blow it open whenever you give the order, sir,” said Lester, pointing at four small charges around the edge of the frame. “These ones can be remote detonated.”
The squad retreated from the room and Lester set off the explosives. A flash of white was followed by a whumping blast and then a fizzing of plasma.
“Let’s take a look,” said Lester. He checked into the room. “Yep - that’s got it all right.”
Conway peered into the fading light and saw a surprisingly neat hole in place of the door. He was on the verge of ordering everyone to follow him towards the opening, when he noticed his environmental sensor was giving him crazy readings. As well as the gamma radiation, it reported the presence of tharniol and several more unknown particles, each one listed as NULL.
“Anyone else getting the same readings?” he asked.
“If you’re detecting multiple types of crap then yes, sir, I’m getting the same readings,” said Kemp.
“That’s what my HUD says too,” added Barron.
It didn’t come as any relief to Conway that his environmental sensor was working correctly. Everyone else had similar on theirs, meaning the Ragger hardware was emitting something completely unknown to either the ULAF or the Fangrin navy. Since the particles were unknown, Conway had no idea if his combat suit would shield him from any adverse effects.
He took a deep breath. “We’re going in,” he said.
“What about me?” asked Lester.
“You can stick around, Private.”
Before Conway reached the blown-open door, Lieutenant Ashby came on the comms to report the arrival of Ragger transports.
“There’s more than any ten here, sir. Looks closer to twenty.”
“Keep requesting air support,” said Conway.
“It’s like they’ve all gone home for supper.”
Conway knew the feeling. “Buy us some time, Lieutenant. Do what you can.”
“Roger that.”
At the doorway into the central area, Conway paused in order to watch for anything hostile. The discovery about the mainframe logons left him certain that the Raggers had ceased operations some time ago. Rembra’s suggestion that the enemy had to leave everything connected to keep the hardware stable was distinctly worrying. For the first time, Conway asked himself if Fleet Admiral Stone was really alive anymore.
It felt as if the rescue mission was now secondary and the real reason for Conway’s presence was to find out what the Raggers had been working on in this facility. He suppressed a shiver and stepped through the doorway into the central area. Behind, Conway heard the flat sound of Gilner discharge, the gunfire letting him know that hostilities had begun.
Chapter Fourteen
Once he was through the opening, Conway got himself clear as quickly as possible. The explosives had left the metal hot enough to damage his combat suit and he didn’t want to expose himself to the high temperatures for any longer than necessary. The soldiers were the same and they threw themselves into the central room. Soon, everyone was gathered. They shifted nervously and cast wary glances around them.
Without speaking, Conway set off. The closest pillar was fifty meters away and the path to Admiral Stone’s transmission went between two of the smaller pillars. It was hard to get an idea of what lay on the far side of the room, but Conway thought he could see another door. This area of the building wasn’t any colder than elsewhere and the air carried a peculiar, metallic odor.
The squad came near to one of the outer pillars and everyone stared in awe. It wasn’t just the sheer size, it was the fact that they were completely and utterly different to anything in the ULAF. The patterns appeared to shift before Conway’s eyes and he averted his gaze, fearful he might be hypnotized. Not far away, the main pillar was much bigger than he’d imagined when viewing it from the window.
On his HUD, one reading was now stronger than all the others.
“Those pillars are made from tharniol,” he said in wonder. “Pure, solid, tharniol.”
“You’d think the stuff was as common as horseshit judging by how much of it the Raggers have available,” said Lockhart. “And here’s the Unity League been chasing scraps for decades.”
The discovery was one of those things you accepted and got on with. Most of the ULAF’s soldiers had been fighting over tharniol since they signed up, yet that didn’t mean they were too interested in how much rust ore the other side pulled out of the ground. The majority of the squad shrugged and waited for Conway to get bored and move on.
For his part, Conway realized this was significant, but didn’t exactly know how. The Unity League used tharniol to enable lightspeed travel, but he had no doubt that the brightest minds in humanity were assigned the task of finding out what else it could do. These pillars in the Ragger building didn’t look as if they had anything to do with lightspeed, that was for sure.
“Want me to give one of these consoles a try, sir?” asked Freeman.
Conway cast his eyes over the two units positioned at the base of the pillar. They were made from Ragger alloy, grey and matt like they mostly were. On the top panel: buttons, switches and screens.
“We don’t have time, Corporal.”
“It’s too quiet,” said Kemp. “I don’t like it when it’s this quiet.”
“Can’t even hear the gunfire,” said Brice.
“Let’s keep moving,” said Conway.
Everyone was feeling the same unease and Kemp began making a few wiseass comments like he usually did when he was trying to keep himself distracted. Lockhart warned him to silence and Kemp shut up.
Their path took them within a few meters of a second pillar. Conway thought he detected a humming sound, but it didn’t become any louder even when he turned up his helmet microphone. One part of his mind suggested he should touch the pillar to see what would happen. It was easy to resist.
“This goes through the floor,” said Rembra.
Conway turned at the words. The Fangrin was crouched at the base of the pillar, with his head down.
“You mean this is only the top?”
“I believe so.”
“Secret alien research labs are only fun when you’re reading about them as a kid,” said Torres. “Then when you sign up to the ULAF and end up exploring one, suddenly you find out how much it sucks.”
“Just be thankful nobody’s shooting you,” said Conw
ay. As he said the words, he flicked a glance over his shoulder towards the door. Torres caught the movement.
“Maybe not for long, huh?”
They emerged from the circle of pillars and Conway got a clearer sight of the corner where the signal was coming from.
“I can see two doors. Private Lester, get ready to blow a hole in one or both of them.”
“Yes, sir.”
When they reached the doors, Lester had already extracted several explosives from his pack. He advanced and thumped his fist against the first door. “Not so thick as the last one. A couple of these babies should get it open.”
“Wait!” said Nixil. “This is a lift.”
Without saying anything else, the Fangrin placed his hand on the access panel. The red light went green and a series of numbers appeared.
“Twenty subterranean levels,” said the alien.
“Why am I not surprised?” muttered Conway. “The angle of the comm transmission suggests that Fleet Admiral Stone isn’t too far below ground.”
“Should I open this second door?”
“Yes, let’s see what’s behind it.”
The answer came as no surprise and Conway stared into a new passage, hardly different from any other. “I think Admiral Stone and the others might be on the level below this corridor,” said Conway. “I can’t see stairs, so we’ll use the lift.”
“We should try level minus one,” said Nixil. “I will call the lift car.”
“How come there’s no lockdown on these doors?” said Torres.
“Perimeter security only,” said Freeman, winging it. “Everything inside that first door Lester blew open must be on a lower tier security.”
“Nice guess, Corporal,” said Torres.
Conway was on edge and didn’t want to listen to bitching. “Quiet!” he ordered.
Everyone was ready, either watching the room behind, or waiting to shoot anything hostile in the lift. The car arrived and the door opened. It was lit in blue, which made a welcome change from the emergency red light everywhere else.
“A tight squeeze,” said Brice, eyeing up the limited room.
“Especially with these Fangrin bad boys taking up all the space,” said Barron.
It wasn’t a good idea to put everyone in the lift car at once. On this occasion, Conway felt obliged to accept the risk on the basis that Lieutenant Sawyer had that moment reported the Raggers were pressing hard and the remaining soldiers were going to withdraw deeper into the building.
“Move,” he said, indicating with his rifle. “Suck in your guts.”
The squad crowded inside. It was tighter than Conway had anticipated and he found himself jammed against the wall by Hacher, Freeman and Barron. He flexed his shoulders and succeeded in getting himself a couple of inches extra room at Freeman and Barron’s expense. Hacher was as solid and unmovable as a brick shithouse.
“I am activating the lift,” said Nixil. “Level minus one.”
The door slid closed with a hiss and Conway detected acceleration. The feeling persisted for several seconds and then it ended.
“Be ready,” he said. “Get out and do it fast.”
The door opened for a second time and the soldiers spilled into a room which was visually near-identical to the one above. The pillars emerged from the ceiling and descended to the floor. They were etched with the same pattern and connected with similar cables. Conway saw more Ragger consoles over that way and several of them were powered up, though they were too far for him to read any of the text.
He looked left and was pleased to find another door. The positioning system in his suit helmet told Conway that Admiral Stone’s transmission was coming from this level, somewhere behind this other door.
“This is the place,” he said. “Let’s get this over with one way or another.”
Movement caught Conway’s eye. It was the lift door sliding shut. Kemp saw it too and he stuck his arm out to keep it open. The door didn’t have a safety mechanism and it nearly trapped his arm.
“Nearly got me,” he said, offering his middle finger to the lift.
Nixil activated the panel and again the door opened.
“Someone jam it,” said Conway, not much caring how it was done. “I don’t want those Raggers using it to come after us.”
“I’ve got an empty mag that should do the trick,” said Corporal Brice.
While Brice got on with it, Conway walked to the door he hoped would lead to the prisoners. Hacher was two steps ahead and overrode the panel security.
“Wait,” said Conway, checking to make sure everyone was prepared.
“Think we can have a look at those consoles when we’re done?” asked Freeman.
“Maybe. I’m curious, but our priority is to enact a rescue and then get the hell away from Qali-5.”
“Amen to that,” said Kemp.
Hacher activated the door panel. The door opened to reveal a passage leading to an intersection eighty or ninety meters away. Two other side passages branched off, along with a few doors, all of which were closed. A sign hung from the ceiling a short way along.
“Research,” read Conway. “Doesn’t tell me too much.”
“At least it’s not another meat room,” said Kemp.
“Small mercies.”
“There’s something on the floor,” said Torres. “Right by the far turning.”
Conway saw it too and he tried to decide what it was. It looked like clothing – as if the Raggers had dropped a spacesuit on the ground as they were pulling out of the facility. Whatever it was, he didn’t think it presented a danger. Conway waved for silence and listened carefully for a moment.
“Come on,” he said. “It sounds clear.”
“How far away is the transmission, sir?” asked Freeman.
“Approximately 150 meters.” Conway raised his arm and pointed. “To the end and then left.”
He set off along the corridor. The air felt stuffier in a way he couldn’t explain. Almost oppressive, he thought.
“I don’t like this,” said Kemp.
“Nor me,” said Torres. “Finally we agree on something, huh, Kemp?”
“Yeah. At last.”
They stopped talking and the squad proceeded quietly. Conway sensed their nervousness and he felt it too. He glanced behind and was reassured that nobody was letting fear overcome their discipline.
At the first door, Conway stopped. He felt inexorably drawn to open it and ordered Nixil to do just that. Beyond, was a room with four computer stations. Pieces of Ragger tech were abandoned on a table, and more on the floor, all resembling components taken from something much larger. A weapons rack held two long-barreled guns of a type Conway hadn’t seen the Raggers use before. Otherwise, it was empty.
“Move on,” said Conway.
He ignored the next door and hurried to the first turning. Along this corridor he saw more rooms, maybe a lift and something that might have been a stairwell. As well as those things, another couple of dropped spacesuits.
“See those?” he asked Lockhart.
“Suits?”
“Yeah. The Raggers must keep dropping them,” said Conway, not trying to sound like he believed it.
“We’ll soon find out.”
The last turning before the intersection at the end was similar to the previous turning, except this time Conway saw a pile of the spacesuits, seventy or so meters away. They didn’t move and they gave out no heat. For some reason, he’d have felt better about it if they’d stood up and started shooting.
“Those things give me the creeps,” said Torres. “Like, even more of the creeps than this place already gives me.”
The intersection was near and Conway advanced on it. He didn’t stop to investigate the pile on the floor – a single glance was enough to tell him it was one of the Ragger operative spacesuits. The realization made him feel a far greater relief than he was willing to admit to himself.
When he checked in both directions, the relief dissipated inst
antly. “More damn suits,” he said. “No sign of hostiles.”
He stepped away from the corner and gestured for Barron and Nixil to keep watch, while Sergeant Lockhart made some fine-tuning towards the rear. With that done, Conway crouched next to the suit. It was Ragger all right and badly scrunched up so that the helmet was underneath the arms and the legs were bent onto the top of everything else. Now that he was close, Conway saw that it looked fuller than an empty suit.
He reached out quickly and tugged in order to straighten it out. The material flopped like it was under tension and when Conway tugged again, the face-down helmet rolled onto the side.
“Ah shit,” he said.
“What the hell did that?” asked Barron.
“I don’t know, Corporal.”
The sunken face of a Ragger was visible behind the helmet visor, its eye sockets empty and its grey skin clinging tightly to its skull. Conway gently squeezed one of the spacesuit’s arms and he could feel the bones underneath. Whatever muscle tissue this Ragger once possessed, it was completely gone.
Conway beckoned for Corporal Brice and Hacher to take a closer look. “Is this something you’ve seen before?”
The Fangrin’s yellow eyes glowed with an unrecognizable emotion. He shook his head once, firmly. “This is unknown to me.”
“Corporal Brice?”
She made no effort to take the medical computer off her back. “I can tell you already what the med-box will say. Five minutes with a probe shoved in a hole somewhere on this Ragger and then it’ll tell me the cause of death is multiple organ failure with an unknown origin.”
“You sure?”
She shrugged the pack clear. “I’m getting too cynical, sir. Let’s give it a try.”
Conway lifted a hand. “Hold for now. If I need a second opinion later, we’ll do it then.” He took a deep breath. “Shit,” he repeated and then pushed the dead Ragger angrily away from him. It struck the wall and landed in such a way that its face was pointing directly, accusingly at Conway. He ignored it and stood.
“Anyone else seen this before?” he asked. “I’d like some ideas.”
Nobody had any. Freeman commented that the dead Ragger looked like an Egyptian mummy from back on Earth. Other than that, nothing useful.
Death Skies (Fire and Rust Book 4) Page 11
