by S. H. Jucha
Sam stepped out of the vehicle, and the two Lemgarts who arrived to greet them swiftly retreated. Sam stood and surveyed the nearby area. Convinced of his charge’s security, he motioned toward the vehicle’s interior.
Imperially, Candace stepped out. She made no move to examine their location. That wasn’t her job.
The Lemgarts led the way. Sam strode behind them, and Candace followed in his wake.
Inside a mammoth hangar, pallets were stacked seven meters high. Small vehicles continually operated among the corridors and between the stacks.
Their guides led Sam and Candace though the rows to an expansive office tucked at the rear of the warehouse.
Two Usaanans were partially coiled on either side of the doorway.
Sam halted three meters from them and regarded them silently.
The serpents rose up, and one of them hissed, “Remove your hood.”
“Make me,” Sam said, his deep voice adding to his imposing stature.
The office door slid aside, and Fystal hastily said, “There’s no need for these displays. This is a business meeting not a contest.”
A hiss issued from the office, and the two Usaanans subsided.
“Please, come in,” Fystal invited Candace. “Your security can remain outside.”
“That’s not the purpose of security, when meeting in strange locations with unknown individuals,” Candace shot back, without having taken a step.
“Then welcome, both of you,” Fystal said magnanimously. He stepped back, circled around the room and away from a Usaanan, who was coiled to the room’s left side. A gesture from Fystal indicated a pair of chairs to Candace. She sat, but Sam stood behind her and to her left.
Usslert noted the human male’s position. His security training was evident.
Fystal perched on a chair built like a stool. “This,” he said, indicating the Usaanan, “is Usslert, the client who can speak to the qualities of my enterprise.”
“How may I address you?” Usslert asked, unwinding a coil.
“When I was young, I was called Candy,” Candace replied. “You may call me by that name.”
“That translates as a sweet confection,” Usslert pointed out, hissing softly in disdain.
“It was appropriate for a young human. It isn’t now,” Candace replied genially, but her eyes dared the Usaanan to make fun of her name.
“How may I call your associate?” Usslert continued.
“My associate’s name isn’t important. He won’t be speaking,” Candace replied.
“What would you like to know, Candy?” Fystal asked, wringing his sharp-nailed hands together. He was anxious for the exchange to go well.
Candace laid out some elements of her proposal. She was careful to use estimates of Usaanan deliveries to the outpost and shift the numbers. As she spoke, she demanded equivalent responses from Usslert.
More than once, Sam and Candace noticed Fystal’s nervous tells. The Lemgart was often displeased by Usslert’s remarks.
Candace sent in reply.
“I don’t think this conversation is of value to me,” Candace said abruptly, interrupting Usslert and making to stand.
“Why?” Fystal cried out, before he could help himself.
“I’ve studied your company, Fystal jer Hathwa,” Candace said sternly. “I know its capabilities ... transport numbers, frequencies of trips, load quantity per trip, and many other factors. What your client is telling me doesn’t ring true. Either I’m being taken for a fool by an impostor of a client, or I’m being tested. I don’t care for either circumstance.”
“Apologies, Candy,” Usslert said, tipping his small head. “I only meant to confirm your authenticity by testing your knowledge. This was done at the request of our host.”
The expression on Fystal’s face said that wasn’t true, but Candace didn’t confront the issue.
“Your apology will be accepted, if you’d care to repeat everything you’ve said in an accurate account of your contract with Fystal’s company,” Candace said, resuming her seat.
Usslert intended to repair the damage, but he insisted on more information from Candy, as he delivered the true numbers.
The more the two of them spoke, the more Usslert became suspicious. While there were subtle differences between his contract and Candy’s proposal, they were too similar for coincidence.
Sam heard Usslert issue subtle hisses between statements. His ear comm didn’t translate the utterances, which disturbed him. Then he heard the whisper-soft sounds of serpent bodies on the floor. He turned a few degrees to eye the door and kept Usslert in his peripheral vision. The two sand serpents from outside the office now occupied the doorway.
Unfortunately, Candace took the wrong moment to ask her question of Sam. Her hesitation in responding to Usslert’s query confirmed for the Usaanan that the humans were communicating via their implants. While this wasn’t unexpected, it had occurred just as his cause for concern had escalated.
Usslert hissed a command to his security force.
Sam didn’t need a translation to recognize an attack order. He yanked both weapons and booted Candace and her chair out of the line of attack.
The serpents split their assault against Sam. One went high, and the other went low, hoping to find purchase with their fangs.
Sam stuck his shock stick into the open mouth of the serpent targeting his neck and triggered it. For the serpent trying to sink fangs into his leg, Sam swung the second shock stick like a club and connected to the serpent just behind its head.
The shocked serpent’s body slammed its length into Sam, with little effect.
Sam tossed one weapon to Candace, who’d jumped out of her chair and was hugging the far wall with a dazed and dismayed Fystal.
The other serpent shook off its clubbing and tried again to sink its fangs into the human.
Sam shoved his stick into the open mouth of the second serpent, snapping a fang, and sent it comatose to the floor. Whirling around, Sam faced Usslert, extending his weapon in front of him.
Usslert had uncoiled, but he’d remained in place, expecting his associates to take care of Candy’s security. Eyeing both humans holding their weapons in practiced fighting positions, he knew that his group’s association with the Lemgarts was undone.
Fystal stared at Candace, as he edged away from her. He was entirely uncertain about what had happened and what to do next.
Candace edged along the office wall, stepped over the bodies of the stunned serpents, ducked her head through the doorway, and sent,
Sam kept his eye on Usslert, as he slowly backed to prevent tripping over the bodies. The instant he cleared the door, he sent,
Using her implant recording as a guide, Candace raced through the gamut of palette rows. She could hear Sam’s heavy footsteps right behind her.
Candace could hear a harsh chuckle from Sam. Then he
sent to her,
In the office, Usslert hissed, “They can’t be allowed to get away.”
“Why not? What happened?” Fystal asked fearfully.
“Those two are running an investigation for someone ... Pyre, the outpost, the Omnians. Who knows?” Usslert replied. He slid over to his security and checked that they were still alive. The charge that was used wasn’t lethal.
“What do you intend to do?” Fystal asked. He’d remained plastered against the wall, as if it would protect him from what might come.
“We must capture them so that we can stage an accident,” Usslert said, rounding on Fystal. He slid close to the Lemgart and rose, intending to use his height to dominate.
“I don’t want to be part of this,” Fystal wailed, cowering.
“Too late, Fystal. You’re in this with me. Send their vehicle away.” When Fystal hesitated, Usslert hissed, “Do it now!”
Exiting the warehouse, Candace broached the light of day. Then she stuttered to a stop.
Candace surmised.
Candace shot back.
Sam spotted two shuttles being prepped in the distance. He remembered something from Candace’s training records, and he checked his implant data.
Candace watched Sam leap onto the side of a cart. He clung like a spider to the pallets, with his shock stick nestled in his harness.
The final cart was about to pass, when Candace finally reacted. She dropped her shock stick and jumped. Her hands found purchase, but her feet didn’t. Briefly, she hung by her hands, while her feet scrambled until one boot point caught. She tucked the other leg behind the first and rode her cart in that awkward position.
The driver of the vehicle entered a tunnel and passed through a blast door. A few hundred meters later, the vehicle stopped. Bots exited a separate chamber through blast doors to unload the cargo.
The bots didn’t detect Sam and Candace’s presence, necessitating they leap free of the carts to avoid them.
Sam scanned the area for access to the shuttle’s bow.
Candace ducked into the chamber from which the bots had raced. Then she returned to the blast door opening and called out, “This way, Major.”
Sam joined Candace, and they rode a lift upward to pass through a second blast door. The car stopped at a small gantry, and Candace and Sam crossed the slender structure and bent over to squeeze through the shuttle’s small hatch opening.
Candace made her way to the pilots’ cabin. She alternately pointed her shock stick at the pilot and the copilot.
The frightened Lemgarts took Candace through the automated system. Launch, flight, and landing were available at the touch of icons.
Candace was relieved by the operating system’s simplicity. Then one more thing occurred to her.
“Show me how to adjust the seats,” Candace demanded.
The pilot directed the copilot to exit the cabin. “Sit, please,” the Lemgart said to Candace.
When Candace sat in the too small seat, the Lemgart touched an icon on the copilot’s panel. Then the seat, using additional wings embedded under the bottom, along the sides, and behind the back, expanded to fit Candace. I hope there are enough of them for the major, she thought.
Candace ordered the pilot out of the cabin.
The Lemgart hurried to exit, edging past Sam, and joined his copilot on the lift.
Sam eyed the copilot seat that was left in Candace’s position.
Candace laughed at Sam’s frown. “You have to sit to allow the seat to measure you,” she said.
Sam sat gingerly on the edge of the seat, and Candace touched the adjusting icon. Underneath Sam, the bottom broadened and eased backward. The adjustment had to be made twice more, as Sam sat deeper and deeper into the seat.
“Good?” asked Candace, when Sam wriggled comfortably in the copilot’s seat.
“I will be when we lift,” Sam replied. “I don’t think we’ll be impeded at the dome.”
When the seat harnesses were in place, Candace touched the launch icon, which produced a warbling tone, and a red warning flashed on her primary panel. She’d thought that the worst might be over, but that thought vanished, as the warning continued to warble and blink. It was complicated by the inability of either human to read the warning. It was in the Lemgart language.
“Can you switch to the Pyrean language?” Sam asked.
“I didn’t ask the pilot that question,” Candace replied apologetically. “What do we do?”
“Give it some time. Maybe the bots have to finish loading and clear the tunnel,” Sam suggested.
“I wonder if Fystal and Usslert can intercept our launch,” Candace remarked.
“First, they have to figure out where we ran,” Sam replied. “The tunnel we entered had multiple branches.”
“The pilots will report our position when they get a chance,” Candace pointed out.
“You should have seen the wide-eyed expressions I received when the Lemgarts edged past me,” Sam said. “I’m betting on them waiting it out in the bot’s chamber on the odd chance that we launch before they can clear the blast door to this tunnel section.”
While they were talking, the warning light shut off. Immediately, Candace tapped the launch icon. The panel responded with a series of notices. The last message was accompanied by the rising roar of ignited engines, and Sam and Candace grinned at each other.
Within seconds, they lifted clear of the shuttle tube and sailed for the Lemgart’s second moon.
15: Safe Transit
Implant chronometers alerted or woke the entire crew of the Transit Tripper. The crew assembled on the bridge in the cycle’s early morning hours. A quarter hour later, with thé or caf in hands, the subtle shudder of transit exit swept through every individual.
The Tripper and the Trident exited transit high above Pyre.
“We made it,” a crew member whispered. It was a universal sentiment.
“Safer for everyone if we sit out here in the dark with our alien drone aboard,” Jackie grumped. That was also a common thought.
“It hasn’t gone boom so far,” Kara pointed out, but she would be as happy as her crew to hand over the freighter and drone to Mickey. The trip had strained the crews’ nerves.
Alain had to chuckle about Miriam characterizing the Tripper’s age by the use of a human term to refer to a late-in-life individual.
Miriam had already contacted the Tripper’s controller. When she detected the alien module, she had
n’t investigated any further.
Alain considered that his ship had maintained close proximity to the Tripper, which carried the dangerous drone and its possible antimatter engine. He shook off the dark thought and sent,
Alain ended the call and gazed around the bridge. In his lifetime, he’d been raised in a crèche, trained as an escort to accompany Ser, attended the Omnia flight academy, achieved captaincy, and been promoted to senior captain of three warships. Now, it was time to find a new profession. There was a part of him that would miss commanding his crew. Their devotion was precious to him. But the Trident’s warship purpose no longer called to him.
