"Lieutenant Christopher has already increased the marine presence at both dig sites. I think doing sweeps in teams is a bad idea. It would take too long and be far too dangerous for the marines." He thought for a moment. "Unless you did the sweeps in the shuttles, but that may attract too much attention. The locals do get around. I'm not sure what they'd think of a flying machine."
"Damn. I really am worried, Commander. I was hoping you, of all people, would understand how dangerous these things can be." Bauval started to get up from the table.
"Hold on. I didn't say I didn't agree with you. I said your idea for how to deal with it wasn't that good. I think I may have a much better solution for your problem."
"What's that?" Bauval asked. He tried to conceal his annoyance at having his idea shot down.
"We'll do it." He indicated himself and Hunter. "I'll don my armor. I need to spend some time in it anyway before I get out of practice, and Hunter here could use a good run."
"I wouldn't want either of you to get hurt. I know you dispatched the one predator with ease, but actually going after them alone seems foolhardy."
"Don't worry about us. I'm not a fool. I'll be carrying my heavier weapons. Hunter is a tank, and I'm willing to bet my armor would hold up to a bite even from one of those things. It's not like anything's going to be shooting at us."
Dr. Mason was annoyed.
She had repeatedly asked that new marine lieutenant about Tebrey, but all she would tell Mason was that he was indisposed. She knew that he had gotten assigned a new companion, but did he have to spend every moment with the creature? She hated to think that he wasn't going to help her talk to the other locals, but she didn't even know if it was still a possibility.
Did he ever operate without his animal?
She was sure a giant cat would cause a disturbance in the village, but didn't know how she would convince the commander to leave his neo-panther behind when he went.
An entirely new line of inquiry had presented itself, and her only source of information had taken a few days off. It was exasperating. She had tried to talk to the strange people herself, but they pretended not to notice her.
Cat or not, she needed Tebrey's help.
The armor was set to flat, non-reflective black.
The exoskeletal plates looked like some sort of fantastical and deadly insect. Each plate was six centimeters of layered beryllium steel and carbon composite, impervious to most weapons. A person wearing a command battlesuit was ten times as strong as a normal human and could run at over twenty kilometers an hour. He was a one-man engine of destruction.
Tebrey set the suit to warming up and stripped out of his clothes. It's been a long time, he thought. The suit blossomed open. Tebrey couldn't help but feel like it was ready to eat him.
Hunter paced their small cabin with excitement as Tebrey stepped into his armor and ran through the system checks after it closed around him. Tebrey drew and checked each pistol to be sure they were armed and operational. He decided to leave his rifle behind. He wouldn't need it. His positron pistols could kill anything on the planet, but he intended to let Hunter have the kill if they found anything nasty.
Hunter growled in soft agreement.
They left their quarters and walked quickly to the shuttle bay. Crew and scientists whom they passed gave them wide berth.
What does that stuff feel like? Hunter asked him.
It hurts at first. It's hard to get used to. But when you've worn it for a while, it gets to where you don't notice the discomfort, he replied. Their thoughts slid without effort into each other's minds now.
So when do I get mine? Hunter asked.
Tebrey laughed. I don't think they make it in your size. You've got a spacesuit in the gear they transferred over from the Agamemnon, though.
I do? Hunter said, surprised.
Yes, indeed.
Do I need it?
Not right now. You may if the ship is attacked, Tebrey thought. I'll show you where it is and how to get into it when we get back.
Awesome! Let us go hunting, brother!
Dr. Anderson was surprised to see another shuttle coming down. He had flown over on the skimmer from the beta site to evaluate an artifact one of his students had found. No one had told him anything about someone else working on the site that day.
He felt irrationally vexed. He was fussy by nature, and tried to keep that under control, but he liked having things neatly organized. This unexpected break in his routine was bothersome.
He walked over to the landing pad to see who it was who felt it was necessary to disturb him. If it was that marine commander, he was going to get an earful.
The man simply had no sense of courtesy. He'd just dropped everything and vanished days before. Well, if he thinks he can come down here and disrupt my operations at this point, he is mistaken. I have better things to do than follow him around and answer his inane questions.
Who's this? Hunter asked as he bounded from the shuttle.
Tebrey stepped out after him and saw Hunter standing in from of a very white-faced Dr. Anderson. Dr. Anderson, he thought. Be nice to him.
I remember you telling me about him. I thought you didn't like him.
I don't, Tebrey replied, but he is the senior scientist on this expedition. We need him not to be annoyed with us.
You do, maybe. Hunter chuffed and walked around Anderson, smelling the air and getting a feel for real gravity.
"Just what is the meaning of this?" demanded Anderson.
"Calm down, Anderson. Dr. Bauval asked me to patrol the area for carnivores. We're just going to check and see if any are migrating through the region." His amplified voice boomed across the site.
"Okay, but you're wearing... And that..."
"I'm in a command battle suit, Doctor. The neo-panther is my companion, Hunter. It wouldn't do to go hunting ten-meter sauriods without protection, now, would it?"
"Hunting? What hunting? And I didn't realize you had a..." He paused, looking for the right word. Tebrey had the impression that he had been about to say pet.
"Neo-panther, Doctor. Look them up. You may be entertained; you'll certainly be educated." With that, he strode past the archaeologist and followed Hunter across the site.
Tell me about this!
Tebrey laughed at Hunter's exuberance. For all his skills and physical size, Hunter was still only a few days old. He had an almost childlike wonder that Tebrey found refreshing. It helped to sweep away the last bit of pain and depression from his mind.
Whoever decided this was a good idea, was right, he thought.
What? I didn't quite get that. Hunter ran up to him. How did you do that?
Do what?
Talk quiet!
It takes practice to think softly. I'll teach you. Don't worry. What do you think of the planet? Tebrey asked.
I like it. Tell me about these things!
Tebrey spent a few hours walking and telling Hunter about trees, and grass, and rocks, and clean mountain air. There were a lot of plants and animals that he recognized from other planets, Terran lifeforms that the original colonists must have seeded when they landed. Hunter was amused by the terror he sensed in other animals. Tebrey warned him about that. Confidence and pride are one thing, but you must never frighten for enjoyment. It isn't who we are. We are soldiers. We fight to protect, not scare.
I understand, Hunter replied. I think.
They ran together under the trees, Tebrey's powered strides easily a match for Hunter's long limbs. They circled the dig site twice in widening circles but never saw any trace of anything larger than a wolf. Who knew what the wolf would think when it smelled the spoor left by Hunter?
Tebrey was standing by a stream bank when Hunter suddenly struck him from behind. The blow would have killed an unarmored man. With his armor, he absorbed the impact, but it sent him stumbling into the water. He spun around and drew his pistol, but Hunter wasn't attacking. He was sitting on the bank, laughing silently.
&nbs
p; Gotcha! he thought.
Hunter, you could have hurt me, Tebrey chastened.
No, you have armor. You told me about it. I kept my claws in.
Tebrey shook his head and stalked out of the muddy water. He checked and holstered his pistol.
You're not mad, are you? Hunter thought to him.
No, he replied. Why would you think that?
You drew your gun, he thought accusingly.
Reflexes. Reflexes will save your life. For example – He shoved Hunter suddenly, so that he rolled down the bank and into the water.
They spent hours exploring the woods. Tebrey had to admit that it felt good to be back in his armor. His suit com beeped later in the afternoon.
"Tebrey here."
"Sir, this is Ensign Mewes. I'm on my way down in a shuttle. Lieutenant Christopher asked me to come down and collect you. There's something she needs your help with."
"Okay, Ensign. What's your ETA?"
"I should be at the alpha landing pad in six minutes, sir."
"Affirmative. I'll be there."
Looks like playtime's over, he thought to Hunter.
I heard, he replied. Want to run?
I'll beat you there, Tebrey said, laughing.
The shuttle was down and cooling when they arrived ten minutes later. Tebrey had indeed beat Hunter to the shuttle.
I think that is cheating, Hunter complained. I bet I could beat you if you weren't in armor.
No doubt, brother. It had been close, even so. Do you want to go back up with me? I may be awhile.
If it's all the same to you, I'd rather be here running in the clean air. I don't trust those tin cans, he thought back.
Tebrey chuckled. Okay, have it your way. I'll be back in a few hours. Stay out of trouble.
Of course, he replied, accompanied by a rolling of green cat eyes.
"Do you know why Lieutenant Christopher wanted to see me?" Tebrey asked the navy pilot as he climbed in.
"No, sir. It was relayed through one of the marines," replied Ensign Mewes. "I got the impression it was urgent, but not what it was about. Marine business, I suppose."
"Strange that she just didn't contact me from orbit."
"I wouldn't know about that, sir."
Tebrey checked his orbital link, but it seemed to be down. That was unusual. Maybe that was what she wanted to see him about.
"Okay, take off when you're ready. I'll strap in back here. I don't think those acceleration couches were built to hold six hundred kilograms of armor."
"No, sir. I don't think so, either. I'll try to take it easy on you."
"Right. I'll believe that when I see it." He strapped himself to the deck plates. "Okay, I'm secure; blast away."
The shuttle rose screaming in a typical navy takeoff, an almost vertical ten-gravity climb.
Chapter Nineteen
"Sir, I've got a problem."
"What is it, Olavson?" asked Lt. Commander Jasmine Pahlavi. She was behind on her paperwork and wasn't happy about the interruption. The glitch in ship's com earlier had her on edge.
"I've got another glitch for you, sir. It's in the starboard defense laser," Olavson replied.
She got up from her couch, walked over to his station and looked over his shoulder. "What kind of glitch?"
"I don't know, sir. Some kind of feedback loop in the processor. It's drawing a lot of power, maybe a shorted circuit."
Pahlavi was starting to get a bad feeling in her gut. "Shut it down!"
He typed rapidly across his screen. "I can't, sir. I've never seen anything like this."
She reached across and typed in her override code. Nothing happened.
"Communications! Order an engineering crew to the forward starboard defense turret," she said, and then followed a hunch. "Send a security detail, as well."
"Yes, sir."
She watched Olavson try to isolate the circuit, but he couldn't cut it or reroute power.
"Sir?" a sensor tech asked tentatively.
"What?" she snapped.
"We have an inbound shuttle, but there's a problem with my scans."
Pahlavi was definitely starting to feel that things were coming undone, quickly. Something was wrong that she wasn't seeing. "What problem?"
"My scans aren't picking up a Fleet identification code for the shuttle."
"Isolate that circuit! Communications, query that shuttle. Is it ours or not?"
"Sir! Our defense grid just activated. The starboard defense turret is tracking the shuttle."
The executive officer rushed to her couch and activated her screens. "Deactivate it! Deactivate it! Damn it! Where the hell is that engineering team?"
"Sir, the team is onsite. They report they are having trouble getting through the door. Security is on the way. Also, I have confirmation on the shuttle. It's ours."
"You're sure?" She was tense and beginning to sweat.
"Yes, sir. I recognize Ensign Mewes' voice. He's a regular pilot."
"Warn him off! Tell him we're having problems up here!"
"Sir!"
She didn't hear what Olavson shouted. She saw the flash of laser fire on her screen.
"Oh, my god," moaned Olavson.
"Get the captain up here!" Pahlavi shouted as she activated the ship-wide alert.
Lieutenant Amelia Christopher shoved aside the engineering team and used her security override to force open the door to the maintenance room for the defense laser.
As the door slid open, she saw Private Johnson on the floor with cables all around him. He had jacked a portable terminal into the system and was typing rapidly.
"Hold it right there, Private. Hands where I can see them!" She held her pistol in both hands and prayed that she wouldn't need it.
"You're too late!" he screamed, and punched the execute command on the keypad.
She could hear the capacitors for the laser discharge. He'd fired at something. She felt queasy. If they fired on another ship... She swallowed hard. "Hands!" she shouted.
He came up off the floor clutching a spanner, and Lieutenant Amelia Christopher, for the first time in her life, calmly shot and killed a man, just as the alert klaxon began.
"What the hell is going on here?" Captain Thomas demanded as he came onto the bridge.
"We had a glitch in our defense systems, sir. A shuttle has been destroyed."
Captain Thomas settled into his acceleration couch as what she said sank in. He rubbed a hand roughly across his face. How could something like this happen? he wondered.
"Sir, Lieutenant Christopher has asked to speak to you. Priority, sir."
"Transfer it to my screen, Lieutenant Styr," the captain replied.
"Sir!" the weapons tech interrupted.
"What, Olavson?"
"The Agamemnon is bringing her weapons systems online, sir." His voice was hoarse.
"Sir!"
His attention was brought back to his screen. Lieutenant Christopher looked terrible. "We've got a situation up here, Lieutenant. Make it fast."
"I just shot one of my marines," she said in cold voice. "Your starboard defense laser is offline now."
"Sir, priority override communication from the Agamemnon! They're ordering to us to stand down and prepare to be boarded."
The captain took a deep breath and held it for a moment. He should have expected something like that.
"Signal our compliance, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir!" There was raw fear in her voice.
"Lieutenant Christopher, please meet me in the shuttle bay. I think we have some explaining to do."
"Yes, sir."
"Pahlavi," he said with gentle compassion.
"Yes, Captain?"
"You did well. No one could have seen this coming. You have the bridge until I return."
Dr. Maria Rodriguez rushed to meet the medical team as they wheeled the stretcher in. Four marines in full gear escorted it. She had never seen them look so grim.
"What do we have?" she asked the medic.
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"Gunshot wound, ten-millimeter explosive round. We have no heartbeat, and he's probably bled out."
She tore away the bandages. "Mary, Mother of God," she exclaimed. "There's no heart! Get this man to surgery." She turned on the marines. "Get out of here with those things."
"Sorry, Doctor. Our orders are not to let the body out of our sight."
She saw unwavering looks on the two sergeants' faces. "Fine," she snapped. "You two come with me. The other two, out here."
With that, she ran into surgery. The two glowering sergeants followed.
Her surgery team was already at work, cutting away at the body.
"You!" she said, pointing a bloody gloved hand at McGee. "What happened?"
"Lieutenant Christopher shot the son of a bitch."
"Why would she do that?" Rodriguez was back to work with both hands spreading open Johnson's rib cage.
"The bastard fired on one of the shuttles. What are you doing?" asked Sergeant McGee, looking a little queasy.
"Trying to save him," she said irritably. "What's the count?"
"Six minutes plus, Doctor."
She cursed quietly and concentrated on the body in front of her, trying to ignore it as a person and thinking instead of herself as a mechanic working on a machine with odd fluids.
They had him connected to an artificial heart and lungs in less than eleven minutes from when he was shot.
After fifteen minutes, they knew that Private Johnson would live. No one knew for how long. That would be up to a court martial to decide.
Captain Thomas and Lieutenant Christopher stood together outside the airlock to the shuttle deck and watched a unit of Federation Marines come aboard. They were both quickly scanned for weapons. Christopher had wisely left her pistol in her office.
"Clear, sir!" the marines reported.
Commander Arnaud Nadir stepped through the lock from the assault shuttle. He compared the people standing in front of him to his information on the ship's roster.
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