“Go to quiet mode,” Eva told Pink through her helmet comm. Then she waited, rolling her shoulders and stretching her kinks out while still being mindful of her ribs and other injuries.
“What the sweet holy fuck was that?” Pink finally asked, also through comms.
“You’re the doctor,” Eva replied. “You tell me.”
“It’s not in any of my databases.” Pink shuddered, shaking herself like a wet dog. “I’m not even sure if it’s organic. Some kind of assimilating imitator, maybe.”
It was Eva’s turn to shudder. Creepy body stealers came in a lot of forms, from liquor-peeing parasites to brain worms to these gross little puffballs with teeth like razor wire. Few people were willing to tolerate a critter that would climb up your ass and wear you like a Halloween costume, so most of them were extinct. Any surviving species were, by nature, disturbingly good at not getting caught or isolated enough as to be undisturbed by sapient species in possession of tactical nukes. Or, you know, they made really good booze.
“No sign of Vakar anywhere on the ship, at least,” Eva said. “Either he and the rest of the crew are somewhere else, or—” She swallowed the rest of that sentence. Despite the voice of pessimism breathing in her ear, she suspected it was the former; after all, someone had to have locked that thing up in there and taken all the gear.
“We’ll find him, Eva,” Pink said quietly.
“I know,” Eva replied, with more bravado than she felt. The question was, where had they gone, and when were they coming back? Okay, that was two questions, but still.
“Maybe they left some tracks,” Pink said. “Or maybe they were on the other ship?”
“Time to check that baby out,” Eva said.
They slipped out the same way they’d come in, Eva briefly pinging Min with ((Nothing yet)) in case it helped keep Pollea placated. No way was she saying anything about the tank monster until she had more info.
She approached the Javelin-class ship more warily than the quennian one. It was smaller, bulky; her dad only sold these to grease monkeys who liked to work on their own rides, and—
Something tapped her on the shoulder. She barely managed to turn her head before she saw the gun pointed at it.
“Cops,” she muttered, putting her hands up. She looked to her other side, where Pink was also raising her hands in the universal biped gesture of submission.
The gun holder circled around to the front. A quennian, in reflective gray armor that reminded her inexplicably of an old-school knight. It even had a helmet, same gray material, with a black bar where the eyes should go. This wasn’t standard pig attire, though; she’d been arrested by quennians before, and they tended toward bright reds and isospheres instead of gunmetals and, well, guns.
This person was fast, and quiet as a cat. Impressive. What were they going to do with her?
Their posture shifted; the gun didn’t. The silent standoff continued. Eva’s bladder reminded her of that pee business from earlier.
How long were they going to stand there like this?
“Eva, your sound dampener,” Pink said over comms, exasperated.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Eva said, and turned it off. She’d forgotten the damn thing was on.
“—make me ask you again,” the quennian said. His voice was gravelly and deep, distorted by the helmet.
“Sorry, my sound was off,” Eva said. “What did you say?”
The quennian paused as if confused. Or exasperated, maybe, if he’d been talking at Eva the whole time with no response. She was surprised her head was still intact.
“Why did you turn your sound off?” he asked.
“That thing on the ship. Its scream paralyzed us, so I cut it off. I assume you checked it out already . . . It didn’t do the same to you?”
“The logs told me what I needed to know, and it seemed imprudent to disturb the creature, given the description.” His gun hadn’t moved a centimeter. “This is a restricted area. Relocate your ship immediately or you will be detained indefinitely.”
“Sorry, no can do,” she replied. “I’m here on a mission, top secret, need-to-know basis. Probably above your pay grade.”
“Nothing is above my pay grade. I am a Wraith. State your name and your business here.”
Pink whistled long and low. Eva’s face spasmed involuntarily. A Wraith? Coño carajo. What the hell had Vakar gotten himself into that quennian black ops were digging around in this shit, too? They were worse than cops. At least cops pretended to have rules. Wraiths had license to do whatever they wanted, wherever, whenever, and not even BOFA gave them shit about it.
Best cooperate, then, if she wanted to keep from becoming a statistic.
“My name is Captain Beni Alvarez, this is my co-captain Dr. Rebecca Jones, and we’re . . . looking for someone.” She tried to keep her face neutral, inoffensive.
“For what purpose? Piracy?”
“What? No!”
“You unlawfully entered the vehicle of an absent party after trespassing on a restricted planet,” the Wraith said. “Then you attempted to willfully mislead an agent of the law. State your business before my patience sublimates.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but realized anything she said was going to sound incredibly stupid.
((Truth, fool,)) Pink pinged at her.
Probably safest. So Eva went with the truth, or one truth at least.
“A crew member of mine—former crew member—said he was going to be here, and asked me to come as a favor to him.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He said it would be dangerous, and he was worried he—”
“So you flew all the way to a restricted planet to meet with a former crew member for no known purpose?”
Eva scowled. “It sounds really unreasonable when you put it like that. But I do need to find him. I . . . need him to help me get my ship back. My other ship. It’s complicated.” That didn’t sound any less foolish, now that she’d said it out loud. She already had a new ship, and a crew, which contained an engineer who was almost as good as Vakar. Sue even had robots.
Did other people actually buy the crap she was selling, because apparently she’d sold herself quite the pile. Pink sighed next to her, shaking her head as if disappointed.
And yet, after a moment, the gun was lowered and attached to a back holster. “Tell me, Captain Alvarez, what is the extent of your knowledge of the Proarkhe?”
“The Proarkhe?” Those fucking guys again. Eva lowered her arms slowly. “My cargo—former cargo handler was obsessed with them.” Also The Fridge, especially her asshole sister and a shithead by the name of Miles Erck, but that seemed like more detail than necessary.
“What if I told you someone had found a Proarkhe artifact here?”
She crossed her arms. “Is that why this planet is off-limits?”
“No, it is restricted because a very dangerous creature lives here, a kind of giant lizard that bores through rock.” He turned away, slowly scanning the terrain to the west. “A distress signal was intercepted by planetary monitoring sensors, and was eventually traced back to a group known as The Fridge.”
“What? You’re joking.”
He glanced back at her. “Am I?”
“Hope springs eternal.” The Fridge. Fuck a duck. She glanced at Pink, who flared her nostrils like the air had started to stink.
“Unfortunately, they did not survive their encounter with the indigenous life—”
“Good,” Pink interjected.
“—but their interest in this planet did not go unnoticed, and a team was called in to determine what that interest might be.”
Vakar. And other people, apparently. “So why are you here?” she asked.
“Because we received a distress call from that group two cycles ago, and shortly thereafter we lost contact.”
And there was the sound of the other shoe dropping.
Eva closed her eyes, listening to the far-off cry of some creature that was les
s bloodcurdling than the one locked up on that quennian ship. The air smelled like a desert, like dryness with a hint of blood, cold because the local star was still just poking its head over the horizon. She couldn’t smell the quennian in front of her, even though her helmet’s sensors were working normally; part of the whole Wraith package, presumably. Creepy, though. Explained why he had been able to sneak up on her, apart from the whole no audio thing.
“So you’re going to find them, right?” Eva asked. “That’s why you’re here?”
He cocked his head at her. “My orders were to conduct preliminary reconnaissance, await further instructions, and defend the site as needed from any Fridge incursion.”
“What about the missing team?” Pink asked.
He didn’t respond.
“You’re going to leave them wherever they are,” Eva said. “Dead, dying, whatever.” She punted a rock into the valley to her left, and it clattered down the sloping side of the cliff face. “This is why following orders is bullshit.”
“Even your own orders, Captain Alvarez?”
Eva ignored that dig. “Fine. I’m assuming you told us this exciting and highly confidential story because you want us to save these people? Because yes, we will. Damn it. Pink, let’s tell the others we—”
“I was, in fact, extending an invitation for you to accompany me,” the Wraith interjected. “I recommend that your associate remain here to guard the ships, as there is potential that The Fridge’s agents will return in greater number.”
Eva and Pink shared another look. “What about your orders?” Eva asked.
“I was preparing to violate them anyway. Wraiths have some latitude in such matters.”
Well. Wraiths were supposed to be their own brand of elite badass among the quennians, so he probably wouldn’t slow her down. And it would be good for Pink to keep an eye on the ship in case things went sideways. Again. Though apparently cats and tiny robots were enough to handle some boarding parties.
“What makes you think you can trust me?” Eva asked. “I could be a Fridge agent, for all you know.”
“In my experience, they do not outfit their operatives with such . . . seasoned ships.”
Pink snorted a laugh, and Eva tended to agree. That was one way to describe El Cucullo. Made it sound like a well-used cast iron pan instead of a dump.
“Let me confer with my co-captain privately for a moment,” Eva said.
The Wraith wagged his head in the quennian equivalent of a shrug. Eva darkened her helmet to avoid lip-reading translator nanites and spoke to Pink through her helmet comm.
“What do you think?” she asked.
Pink pursed her lips. “I think you’ve got multiple fractures, lacerations and contusions, but you’ve also got a head harder than a rock. And my mama always said the good Lord protects fools from themselves.”
“Hasn’t exactly worked out so far,” Eva said.
“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” Pink held out her hand for their usual handshake. “Go get Vakar back, ass. I don’t need you moping around my ship for the rest of eternity.”
Eva swallowed and blinked until her eyes stopped stinging, then took Pink’s hand. Once they finished bumping hips, she turned back to the Wraith and made her helmet translucent.
“All right,” Eva said. “We find the team, pull their asses out of whatever fire they’re in, and if The Fridge comes we hit them until they stop moving. Right?”
“Agreed.” He pointed down the slope, toward a wall of earth that was steeper than the rest. “Come, Captain Alvarez. The entrance to the temple should be over there.”
“A temple, huh? Fancy. Lead the way.”
The sun rose slowly, heating the air with impressive speed, though Eva’s suit regulated her own temperature. A light wind kicked up, pelting her helmet with dust, almost like a fine mist but less refreshing. And here she was, wandering around with a fucking Wraith like it was normal.
It was probably worth turning on a little charm to keep things friendly, instead of spending the whole time worrying that he might shoot her in the back.
“What’s your name, anyway?” she asked.
The Wraith stopped, and she almost bounced into his back.
“I am called—” The translators fumbled the word, taking a full two seconds to finally supply “Memitim.”
“Wraith Memitim? Or is Memitim a title?”
“It is a designation. Wraiths do not have names.”
That was interesting. “Stop me if I’m being rude, but would you mind if I call you something shorter? Tim, maybe? Only because it’s faster to yell in an emergency.” Nicknames were a chancy thing; sometimes they brought strangers together, and sometimes they drove in a permanent wedge. She all but held her breath trying to gauge his reaction, which was nearly impossible given his helmet and lack of scent.
“Tim is fine, Captain Alvarez.” He started to walk again, and she bounced after him.
“You can call me Beni,” she offered. He didn’t respond, and she winced. Wedge, then. Well, it had been worth a shot.
You never were as charming as Tito and your dad, she told herself.
They reached the entrance to what looked like a mine in the side of the valley, except it had a giant metal door—easily ten meters tall—covered in writing, or pictographs. None of them made sense to her, which meant they weren’t in any language known to her translators. Ominous.
“Did The Fridge find this or was it here forever and no one noticed?” she asked.
“Their corpses were not forthcoming.”
“Look at Tim with the sense of humor.” She ran her fingers over the markings, her suit telling her the door was cold. “I assume your people got it open. How forthcoming were they?”
“Enough. Give me a moment.” He scanned the door, then stepped forward and gestured at three places about four meters overhead. With a rumble, the door slid sideways, jerking to a halt twice before sticking about halfway open.
“They don’t make ancient mystery doors like they used to,” Eva murmured. “After you?”
The entry room was as cavernous as the door suggested it would be, sloping downward toward a hallway in the back. The walls were mostly flat carved rock, with pillars made of the same metal as the door placed at regular intervals, perhaps to shore up the ceiling.
In the center of the room was a box, its top open almost like a flower, if flower petals were triangular and metal. Next to the box was a broken lantern and a single quennian boot.
The planet’s low gravity made it extra easy to jump to conclusions. “Way to go, Pandora,” Eva said. This must have been where the body-stealing creatures or nanobots or whatever had come from. That poor quennian.
“None of the crew was called Pandora,” Tim replied.
“I know, it’s a story. Human thing. Guy tells girl not to open a box, girl gets curious and opens it anyway, everything goes to shit.”
“Ah,” he said. “A cautionary tale. Is it effective?”
She gestured at the shoe. “What do you think?”
The massive door closed behind them, plunging the room into darkness.
Eva flicked on the dim red light attached to her suit’s collar, letting her eyes adjust. Now everything looked like it was bathed in flames, like they were about to head into the underworld with nothing but the guns on their backs.
Step up from a lyre, she thought.
The Wraith turned on his own light, blue instead of red, and slightly brighter. Her light reflected off his armor-suit and bounced into her eyes, so she tried not to face him directly. His no-face mask thing was creepy anyway. He made it easier by turning away from her and walking toward the room’s only other exit.
“Do you have some way to track the crew?” Eva asked, loping after him.
“Their suits have tracking systems attached, yes. But that tells me only the direction, not the most efficient way to reach them.”
Even so, that was a bit of hope; if there was still a signal, th
ey might be alive. So they needed a map. She pulled up her own tracking system and pinned the room as their starting point. They’d at least be able to see where they’d gone and double back if needed.
“Ariadne,” she said smugly.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She had a brief pang, wishing she could tell her mother about remembering all the crazy myths they’d loved together when she was little. But as far as her mom was concerned, Eva was a boring old courier delivering boring stuff across the boring galaxy. She wondered if any ancient heroes had moms who didn’t know what they really did with their lives, then chuckled at the thought of comparing herself to an ancient hero.
For one thing, she was way less naked. For another, she wasn’t super keen on running into any minotaurs.
The hallway was actually a T-junction, and the quennian went left. The ceiling was still massively high, the walls four meters apart, but Eva turned her gravboots on at a low setting so she could walk normally instead of bouncing. An occasional flicker of a reflection seemed to indicate there were lights above them somewhere, no longer functioning, or maybe the on switch was unreachable.
Eva sent another ping to Vakar. ((Location?)) Still no response. Maybe he was too far away to receive it. Maybe he was weirded out, getting a ping from her after a year. Maybe he didn’t feel like talking to her. Maybe—
Tim paused, turning to the right. “The signal is in that direction.”
“Through the wall?”
“Yes.”
Eva shrugged. “Might as well keep going. There must be a door or another hallway coming up.” Unless they’d gone the wrong way.
They continued. The hallway sloped down as the other room had, the air around them growing warmer the deeper they went. The walls had cracked and bowed in places, or even fallen, bringing parts of the roof down with them. But they were able to walk around, or climb over, and continue on into the strange not-cave system.
“You said this was a temple?” she asked.
“That is what the scientists called it, yes.”
“How do they know? Couldn’t it be something else?”
“It could. You can ask them when we find them.”
Chilling Effect_A Novel Page 31