With Fleet tech that would make no difference. But whatever they were standing on wasn’t Fleet tech. And it had been subjected to weather like that hail behind them, over and over again.
The sound was easing. Coop glanced behind him. Right now, every part of the pavement exposed to the weather was covered in inches of white pellets. His suit registered the air around him as significantly colder than it had been when the hail started.
Thunder cracked again. This time Perkins jumped.
“I am not fond of that,” she said.
Coop smiled. He didn’t like it much either, but they wouldn’t be near it long.
They were standing on the same brown material, in theory anyway. But they stood just barely underneath that overhang. The material they were standing on was subject to the same weather conditions as the material they had walked across.
But if they took a few steps closer to that curtain, the weather would probably cease to be a factor.
He took Stone’s tablet from Yash, then pointed it downward. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the holomap shift, then adjust itself.
The energy readings were similar to the readings on that wall behind the curtain. So if his team had taken a few more steps forward…something would have happened, but he didn’t know what.
He handed the tablet back to Yash, not to Stone, even though Stone reached for it. Then he pushed back his hood and peeled off his gloves. He handed them to Yash as well.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He opened his environmental suit and struggled out of it. A blast of ice-cold air hit him. The wind was whipping around in this protected area, like it had done near that wall. The air was damp, but that briny smell was gone.
Instead, the air smelled frigid and wet.
He stepped out of the suit, leaving it in a pile on the ground.
“What are you doing?” Yash asked again. Only this time, he couldn’t hear her. He could only see her lips move through her hood.
He held up one finger—one cold finger—and stepped over his suit. He hadn’t quite reached the curtain yet, but he was nearly there.
His heart was pounding, feeling how contrary all of this was to his training, and fighting that as well as the displeasure he could feel coming from the entire team.
He extended that hand, and touched the curtain, half expecting to get zapped with some kind of energy.
The holomaps wobbled, sending rings outward, as if he had stuck his hand in a bowl of water. But he hadn’t. And he couldn’t feel anything. Which meant that the curtain barrier was made of energy or was an illusion, not something real.
He stepped through the curtain, half expecting to feel some kind of surge.
He didn’t. He felt nothing.
His boots touched the ground behind the curtain, and again, nothing happened.
Yash started to follow him, but he held out a hand, keeping her back. He shook his head.
“All of you, stay away,” he said, hoping someone had their outside microphones on like he had.
Then he turned.
There was a wall here. It was brown. But glitter ran through it. Silver lines that looked like some kind of power source.
He couldn’t be certain of that, but he knew he wasn’t going to touch those.
Instead, he scanned the wall in front of him, then looked to his right, where this wall met the barrier wall.
There he saw, at his eye level, a slight depression that seemed a bit long.
He walked over to that. It was flat and had no silver lines on its surface. But the silver lines seemed to originate from it.
Unless he missed his guess, this was the control panel.
The wind blew even colder. His fingers were blocks of ice. The dampness in the air had become mist again, and because the air was so much colder, the mist had become colder too, adding to his chill.
He ran his almost-numb fingertips over the smooth surface of that depression. It was warmer than the air, and he almost wanted to lean into that entire wall just to warm up.
Nothing happened when he touched it. He didn’t get hurt or feel a shock of energy. And nothing opened or closed or sent out warning signals.
He had moved away from the holomaps, so he wasn’t seeing those anymore. And his team had followed orders. They hadn’t come with him.
He didn’t look at them, not wanting to see their distress.
Instead, he clenched his hand into a fist, rather surprised at how difficult it was. His hand was moving slower because of the cold. He pressed the side of his fist against that depression, and it popped open, revealing more silver lines and bright silver controls.
They were labeled in Standard. His version of Standard. And they were laid out like the Fleet would have laid out controls in his time.
That stopped him for a moment, wondering if it was another Fleet-based trap. Then he made himself read.
One of the controls—in theory—shut off the energy to the barrier. Another raised it up. But one was marked reveal doors. That was the one he touched.
Every six feet or so, doors appeared in the barrier wall. Doors with actual handles, also silver, so that they could be opened from the outside. One appeared in the very small space to his right.
He stepped over to it, his heart still pounding. Then he put his hand on the silver—again, expecting some kind of zap, and again, not receiving one. The door creaked open, and musty warm air, dry as dust, cascaded over him.
He had a choice now. He could go inside alone, without lights or equipment, or he could see if he could get Fleet equipment past this wall.
He walked back to Yash. She still clutched his gloves, but she also held the tablet tightly, peering over it as he walked.
She opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, but he couldn’t hear her, and he really didn’t care to hear any admonitions anyway. He pulled the gloves out of her hand as she shook her head.
Maybe she understood what he had done—he had taken off all of the equipment that had any taint of the Fleet. His clothing had come from Lost Souls, and his boots weren’t Fleet-issue or Fleet design either.
But the gloves, they were Fleet design and Fleet issue. The Ivoire had had so many duplicates they still weren’t used up.
“Thanks,” he said, even though he suspected she couldn’t hear him. He tugged the gloves on. The gloves warmed his hands immediately, which warmed him just a little. Then he walked back to that opening, his nerves jumping.
He half expected someone on his team—Chen, maybe—to grab him, trying to stop him. But no one did.
One benefit of being captain, he supposed, even if everyone thought what he was doing was crazy.
He paused near that opening in the wall. Yash was staring straight at him, her eyes barely visible inside her hood. But they were visible enough, and they were wide.
He glanced over his shoulder at the team. They were all watching him intently.
Then he stepped in front of the opening and shoved his hands through it.
Thirty
Coop half expected to feel extreme pain as he shoved his hands into that darkness. He thought maybe some kind of laser weapon or something would bite into his skin, repelling the invader (him) with some kind of force.
Instead, the light illuminated doors at exactly the places where Perkins’ holomap had showed they would be. The walls near the door had a black surface that absorbed the light.
Nanobits, and they looked to be in fine shape.
The doors were clearly part of an entrance. Two doors, then a black wall, then two more doors, then a black wall, heading to his left. He turned his left arm’s lights in that direction, but couldn’t see the end of that parade of doors.
Nor could he see behind them.
So he trained the light up. The black overhang (nanobits) absorbed the light, reflecting nothing except where there were panels for exterior light. There he saw some kind of clear reflector that ran the length of the ceiling.
&
nbsp; It all looked Fleet made.
He brought the lights down, examining the ground. The brown stuff formed a path about three feet wide behind the wall. It also provided a path before him that led to the door as far to the left as the doors went.
He let out one of those vapor-filled breaths, feeling a bit creeped out by the way that the vapor looked ghostly in the thin light.
Either he could step in and see what was going on, or he could step out and gather the team.
He had no weapons, no way to communicate, no tether (thank you, Boss, he thought with a smile). Going in would be foolish, even for him, even at this moment. No matter how much he wanted to see what was before him.
Disappointment filled him. He had the odd sense that he might not be able to see anything if he stepped back now.
But he might not survive if he didn’t.
Nothing had attacked him or his gloves, so he could put the environmental suit back on, with all of its safety equipment.
He owed the team that much.
He squared his shoulders, then stepped back, shutting off his glove lights as he did.
He mimed pulling off the hood to Yash. She did with her free hand. So did Perkins. Chen, to her credit, did not. Stone and Bridge watched, waiting, most likely, for instructions.
“Did your readings change as I touched that wall?” he asked.
“Not then,” she said. “When you put on the gloves, though. Everything sparked. Just a tiny release of energy, but I caught it.”
“Meaning what?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “This technology looks familiar, but it isn’t. I could guess.”
“Guess,” he said.
“Something was alerted, something local. There was no great big transmission that I saw, more like a silent alarm.”
He nodded once. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been worried about that. I think we only get one shot at this, and that shot is right now.”
Her lips thinned. He couldn’t tell what she was trying not to say. So he added a piece of information she might not know.
“The control panel is written in Standard,” he said. “Our version of Standard.”
Her frown grew deeper. “You think that the Fleet set this up before they shut down the sector base?”
“I think it would be odd if they did,” he said. “Especially with all of the warnings against the Fleet itself. And this brown coating isn’t uniform. It looks like it was made of some material that wanted to be nanobits but couldn’t quite achieve it.”
She bit her lower lip and looked down. He recognized her expression. It meant that she was intrigued. She wanted to investigate more.
“If Boss were running this as a dive,” Yash said, “she would have us go back to the skip now, even though we’re not done.”
She sounded hesitant. He tried not to smile. He knew Yash well enough to know that she was suggesting the sensible thing while hoping he wouldn’t be sensible.
“Boss isn’t here,” he said, “and this isn’t a dive.”
Yash didn’t move, which he found a bit odd. Normally, she would have agreed with him, and they would have jumped right into the rest of the mission.
“I think we only have one shot at this,” he said.
Yash’s lips thinned. Then she looked pointedly at Stone and Bridge.
He got the message. Yash thought what they were about to do was too dangerous for the civilians.
He agreed.
“Stone, Bridge,” he said. “Do you two think you can make it back to the skip without us?”
“I’d like to go in there,” Bridge said. Coop noted that Stone didn’t speak up at all, and that was unusual. She always spoke up when she felt she needed to do something.
“We’ll take good readings,” Coop said, “and with luck, we’ll be able to go back in. But in case we can’t—”
“We’re not experienced enough to join you.” The way Stone spoke, it wasn’t a question.
“Boss trained us. Well, me,” Bridge said. “I’ve gone on dives.”
“Yes, I know.” Coop tried not to sound curt, but he was feeling the time pressure. “I need a team who understands all of my commands. Even the unspoken ones.”
Bridge sighed. His breath made that same white vapor. Coop found it so strange. The white vapor floated around everyone, just a bit, but enough to be disconcerting.
“All right,” Bridge said. “I’d like to take some samples of this brown stuff, though.”
“From here,” Coop said. “Not from behind the curtain.” Which was where it was active—or so he thought.
Bridge started to protest, but then seemed to think the better of it. He nodded once, and put a hand on Stone’s arm. “Be careful on the way back to the skip,” he said to her. “I suspect it’ll be slippery crossing that pavement.”
“Yes, it will be,” she said curtly. Then she turned to Coop. “You’ll keep my tablet.”
Again, that wasn’t a question.
“Thank you,” he said, as if he hadn’t had that idea all along.
Bridge and Stone started across the pavement.
“Yash,” Coop said, “let Lankstadt know they’re coming. And make sure he’s watching the entire area. I suspect we’ll have company soon enough.”
Yash put up her hood and sealed it. Then she spoke, but Coop couldn’t hear.
He grabbed his own suit and slipped it back on, making certain that all the seals were tight. The suit warmed him. He hadn’t realized just how cold he had become.
Then he checked his belt and equipment. He double-checked his laser pistol.
It was charged and ready.
Perkins and Chen were doing the same with theirs. As he sealed the hood, he heard Yash finish up with Lankstadt.
“I don’t know how long we’re going to be,” she said. “Can you monitor us behind that curtain?”
“No,” he said. “I lost Coop when he went in there.”
So that curtain created a sensor blackout for the Fleet.
“See if Stone and Bridge have more tablets,” Coop said. “Attach one to your sensors and monitor us that way.”
He hoped that would work. Yash was shaking her head as if she thought it wouldn’t.
“I really would like a timeline, since you’ll be out of contact,” Lankstadt said.
“We’ll be at least an hour, maybe more,” Coop said. “Use your judgment. If something feels wrong, assume it is. Don’t come in yourself.”
“Sir—”
“A lot could happen,” Coop said. “Someone else could be arriving here. We could run into someone inside that area. And you are the only remaining pilot. Your job is to get the team and what information we already have off this planet. Is that clear?”
“Sir—”
“Also,” Coop said, not willing to hear any objections. “Notify the fighters and the Ivoire that we might have inadvertently alerted someone hostile to our presence. Have them monitor.”
“Sir—”
“If it looks dangerous to land here,” Coop said, “you all must leave us here.”
“Sir,” Lankstadt said. “What do you mean by dangerous?”
Coop suppressed a sigh. He really wanted to get into that area before anyone arrived.
“The Ivoire is one ship. Yes, it’s DV-Class, but it can’t handle a squadron of similar ships by itself. Get out, and wait until everything dies down. If we’re alive, we’ll figure out how to make it through. If not, then I don’t want you risking the Ivoire on some misguided rescue attempt.” He glanced at the other three.
They were watching him closely.
“And,” Coop added, “you will play that order for Captain Rooney when you return to the Ivoire.”
“If, sir,” Lankstadt said.
“If.” Coop decided to give that to him. “Now, let us get inside before something else goes awry.”
He glanced at Stone and Bridge. They were leaning on each other, carefully picking their way across the pavement.
Bridge seemed to have forgotten that he wanted a sample, or maybe he took it when Coop wasn’t looking.
Then Coop turned his attention to his team.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Thirty-One
The way this mission was going was sixteen different kinds of wrong. Yash knew it in her gut, knew they were probably courting some kind of disaster, and yet she agreed with Coop: this was probably their only chance to get inside Sector Base E-2.
She did a gut check. Would she be willing to die for information on the Fleet?
Yes. Of course. She wanted to know and she was willing to take risks to do so.
She was relieved that Coop sent Stone and Bridge on their way. Yash didn’t want to translate Coop’s near-crazy to the two civilians. She also didn’t want to justify failing to follow the training they had all received from Boss.
Perkins and Chen knew that Coop wasn’t following Fleet procedure, and they hadn’t spoken up. Lankstadt didn’t like the position Coop had put him in, but Coop didn’t care.
He wanted inside this base, and he was going to get there. No matter what.
He had finished checking his gear. He had turned on all of the same lights on the exterior of his suit. He now glowed like the rest of them, but his lights were aimed downward so that he didn’t blind any of his teammates.
“Ready?” he asked, and just from his tone, Yash could tell that he didn’t want anyone to say they were not. “Let’s go.”
Without waiting for a response, he walked as fast as he could back to that open door in the wall. Yash had to hurry to keep up, which irritated her. She wanted to stop and examine everything.
She would have felt safer if she could have stopped and examined everything.
But he was right: they had to move fast. Besides, he had already viewed that control panel (which she would have liked to at least examine before entering that door).
Perkins kept pace with Yash, and Chen brought up the rear, constantly moving her head to see if someone else had arrived or something was sneaking up on them.
The weather had settled. It had turned extremely cold, but the wind was dying down. There hadn’t been thunder since the last of the hail, and no more rain to speak of.
Searching for the Fleet Page 32