Chapter 5
Pallea search
“What’s happening?” Helder asked as she took her place in line.
“I don’t know.” Yarnolio looked around at their unit, hustling into its lines in varying states of readiness. Some were still fastening their jacket buttons and crash collars, others were tucking headsets into pockets. They’d all been woken by a scramble alarm, but nobody knew why. All he knew was that a scramble at night-three and seventy was never good news.
The briefing room door opened and Lead Guard Baskensteen stalked in, a reader card clutched in his hand and a forbidding expression on his face. All of the Guards snapped to attention as he mounted the podium.
“You have a mission,” he announced without preamble. “It might be the most important one you’ve conducted in your lives, so listen carefully.” He put the reader card on the podium and looked down at them. “A little less than one hantick ago, two alien ships entered our atmosphere. One of them blew up. The other crashed fifty lengths northwest of Blacksun.”
Yarnolio gasped, and Helder uttered a quiet, “Holy shek,” but Baskensteen was already holding his hand up for silence.
“I know this is a shock, and I know you have questions, but there are no answers yet. That’s part of your mission. The ship that blew up didn’t completely vaporize. Pieces of it fell all over central Pallea, and the Whitemoon Astrophysics Lab has tracked the impact sites of the largest ones. We need to find them, collect them, and bring them back to Whitesun Base. We know nothing about the materials this ship was made from or what sorts of dangers you might encounter, so you’re teaming up. Each team will have one pilot, one weapons officer, and one Guard in a full decontamination suit for collection duty. If the piece you find is radioactive, mark it with a beacon and leave it for later collection, but otherwise I want every piece brought back here in a sealed safety container.”
He began reading out names and assignments, sending each team out the door as soon as they had their data. The room rapidly emptied until only Yarnolio, Helder, and four others remained.
“Your assignment is a little different,” Baskensteen said. “You’ve got the biggest piece, and it’s too big for a rescue transport. Yarnolio, you’re flying the cargo transport. Helder, you’re the weapons officer. The rest of you are handling the logistics of getting that chunk into the transport. Check the winches, take plenty of cable, and be ready for anything. Yarnolio and Helder, I’ve already sent the coordinates to your reader cards. Any questions?”
Yarnolio had about fifty of them, but none that Baskensteen could answer. After a moment of silence, the Lead Guard nodded sharply and said, “Then move it out. The sooner we get some answers, the better I’ll feel.”
It was a tentick before they could get the gear they needed on board the cargo transport. Yarnolio and Helder made good use of the time, as he wrapped up the preflight checks and she programmed in the coordinates and calculated their flight plan. The moment their board confirmed that the cargo door was closed and latched, Yarnolio called out a liftoff warning to the crew and pulled back on the thruster yoke. Though they’d been efficient, they were still the last to leave. Every rescue transport at Whitesun Base was already in the sky.
“Hope nobody needs our help tonight,” Yarnolio said.
“No joke.” Helder frowned at the map display, where a red dot marked their destination. “It’s going to be fun pulling anything out of those mountains.”
He nodded. “Especially if I can’t even land. That area is solid forest on steep slopes.”
“Guess that’s why Baskensteen told them to check the winches,” she said, pointing behind her to the cargo area.
“Did you bring a harness for yourself?”
“Of course.” She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Worry about your own job, grainbird. Let me worry about mine. I’ll handle the big weapons if anything scary crawls out and frightens you.”
It was the sort of teasing he heard every day on base, but tonight, flying through the darkness to pick up the largest piece of an alien ship, he couldn’t see the humor.
Helder’s smile slipped as the silence lengthened. “Er…you don’t think anything scary really is going to crawl out, do you?”
“I think that twenty ticks ago, we didn’t know if there was other life in the universe. And now not one, but two alien ships apparently took an interest in us. They didn’t call us, they didn’t communicate, they just appeared. What does that sound like to you?”
Helder’s voice was much quieter as she said, “It sounds like they’re not friendly.”
A beep on the console indicated an incoming communication from Base Control, with an accompanying text message ordering a scrambled channel. Helder tapped in the scrambler code and activated the com.
“Whitesun Base Control to all recovery teams. New information from Blacksun Base. The crashed ship has been located and the Lancer’s Guards are on approach, Lancer Tal leading. Reported size of the ship is three-quarters of a length. It appears heavily damaged but intact. Current supposition is that the two ships were in a battle. Be alert for evidence of this and report anything you find immediately. Whitesun Base Control end.”
Yarnolio and Helder stared at each other.
“Three-fourths of a length?” she said at last.
“Goddess above,” he whispered. That was the size of a port platform, a mid-ocean floating city. These aliens had the equivalent of a port platform in space. It would surely house thousands. And who knew what kind of weaponry they had?
“If those ships were a similar size,” Helder said, “and that one shot down this one, then it must have enough firepower to level half of Blacksun. What in Fahla’s name are the Lancer’s Guards going to do against that?”
Yarnolio shook his head. Base Control had said just the Lancer’s Guards, not the Lancer’s Guards plus a heavy artillery unit or aerial support. That meant they only had portable weaponry. It would be like throwing pebbles at a disruptor cannon.
As they flew over the first foothills guarding the interior mountains, he murmured an old prayer. “May Fahla guide and protect them on the dark path they must walk.”
Helder put her hand on his shoulder, a gentle touch where she had punched him just a few ticks earlier. “And if she calls the heroes home…”
“…their deeds shall ever be taught,” they finished together.
Chapter 6
Captain Serrado
In her wildest dreams, Tal had never imagined an alien landing on Alsea and asking for her by name. She was so shocked that she spoke without thinking.
“I’m Lancer Tal.”
The device said something quietly, and though she did not understand the first word, she heard it repeat Lancer Tal. The alien nodded her head. “I knew you’d be here. I’ve been wishing I could meet you, Lancer Tal. Though not under these circumstances.”
This was getting odder and odder. Tal had more questions than she could give voice to, but she focused on the most important at the moment. “Are there any other ships we should be concerned about?”
“No.”
But the alien’s emotions did not match the answer, nor did those of her companions.
“If you wish for our help, a lie is not a good beginning,” Tal said.
They were startled by that, but the captain recovered quickly. “There are no other ships at this time. There may be later, but not for several days.”
Better. That was the truth.
“How many injured do you have?” Tal asked.
“There are twelve others.”
Twelve? She heard the astonishment ripple across her team, and could hardly keep her own jaw shut. That gigantic ship had been operated by just fifteen personnel? Was it self-aware? A life form of its own? Or perhaps that wasn’t what the captain had meant to say.
She handed her rifle backward, dropped her pack to the ground, and crossed the remaining distance between them. Up close she could see that the aliens were indeed s
mooth-faced, lacking both the forehead and cheek ridges of Alseans. Otherwise, they were remarkable for their sheer ordinariness. No tentacles, no antennae, no scaly skin, none of the usual tropes that Alsean entertainment vids employed so gleefully. No one had ever envisioned aliens who looked almost exactly like themselves.
“Captain Serrado, I think your translation device may have erred. Do you mean to say you have this many injured?” The voice dutifully translated as she held up both hands, then dropped one and held up two fingers of the other.
The captain nodded. “Yes. Twelve. Only fifteen of us stayed with the ship; the others were able to escape. Lancer Tal, I know you must have so many questions and I will answer them all—yes, I will, Commander,” she said to her supporting shipmate, who had shifted in place, his facial and body language reflecting the disapproval that poured out. “Surely you don’t think the Non-Interference Act still applies.” Without waiting for an answer, she met Tal’s eyes again. “I ask only for your aid in return.”
Tal had to admire a leader who would still drive a bargain even in the most dire of circumstances. “I accept your offer,” she said, and the moment the translation ended she was buffeted by their unshielded relief. “Are we as physiologically alike as we seem? Will our medications be compatible?”
“So far as I know, yes. But the person who knows the most about you is still inside.”
“And time is of the essence.” Tal thought she now understood the true source of the captain’s fear. “Then let us defer the rest until later. Dewar!” she called. As the medic ran toward them, she gestured at Gehrain and held up one finger, nodding when he immediately tapped Corlander. The two of them restrapped their rifles and followed Dewar. To Micah she gave the “all clear but stay alert” signal.
Dewar arrived and set her medical pack on the ground.
“The answer to your earlier question is now yes,” Tal told her. “We’re providing assistance. I want you to assess the medical situation aboard and relay it to Senshalon. He’ll contact Blacksun Healing Center for anything you need, including personnel and equipment. I’ll prep the center for an influx of…special patients. Gehrain and Corlander will be your backup.” She looked at the captain as the device finished its translation. “And they will need someone to guide them.”
“I’ll go,” offered the third alien.
Captain Serrado nodded. “This is my best pilot, Lieutenant Telorana Candini. She’s the reason we’re all standing here instead of burning in a city-sized ball of flame.”
“I will be asking you to explain that very soon,” said Tal. “But for now, let’s get you resting and Lieutenant Candini and my team up that ladder.” In truth, she was growing concerned. Captain Serrado was leaning more heavily on her shipmate, her emotions becoming less controlled. She seemed to be holding herself together through sheer force of will, and above all things, Tal wanted this woman healthy and in peak form to answer for herself.
Dewar was looking up the ladder thoughtfully. “Lancer Tal, I think we should call the Mariners. They have the most experience with pulling patients out of difficult locations.”
“Agreed. I’ll have Colonel Micah take care of it. You start your climb.”
“What about the captain?”
The moment Captain Serrado understood, she snapped, “I’m the least of the injured.” Collecting herself, she added, “You must take care of the others first. Please.”
“Is your leg broken?” Dewar asked, ignoring her with the practiced aplomb of any medic.
“No,” she said, but both of her companions nodded their heads.
“Give me just two ticks to make you more comfortable.” Dewar was already digging in her pack before the device finished, and the captain’s surge of fear was so strong that Tal thought she might lose control.
“Every tick matters, don’t you understand? They may be dying!”
“Dewar, give me a skinspray,” Tal said. “If she’s not critical, that will hold her until we can get her into more capable hands. Your skills are needed elsewhere.”
“Yes, Lancer.” Dewar slapped a skinspray into her hand, shouldered her pack, and began climbing.
“Take this, Lieutenant,” said a now-calm Captain Serrado, holding out the palm-sized device to her pilot. “It’s more important that you have it now.”
Lieutenant Candini nodded, pocketing the translator and reaching for the rungs. Despite having just made the long climb down, she was as fast as Dewar going back up. Corlander and Gehrain were right behind her.
Tal held up the skinspray and pointed to the captain’s wrist, gratified when the woman immediately held out her arm. Her resistance seemed to have faded the moment Dewar had set foot on the ladder. With a hiss the spray discharged its load of paincounters, and Tal met the commander’s eyes. “Help her over here. She needs to rest.” She pointed to a spot a few paces from the ladder’s base.
Some language needed no words, she thought as he began helping his captain through the grain. She took a few steps in the opposite direction, called Nilsinian in his sniper nest, and told him and the launcher team to stand down but remain where they were. The next call was to Continal, instructing him to pick up the teams on the east and north sides of the ship and bring them around to her location. That done, she waved in the rest of her unit. Quickly bringing them up to date—which made her realize how little she actually knew—she set Micah to work dealing with the Mariners and asked Senshalon to begin communicating with Blacksun Healing Center. Meanwhile, she called Counselor Aldirk and gave him what news she could.
“You may need to reinforce Senshalon’s authority at the healing center,” she added. “Whatever he asks for probably still won’t be enough. I need our best healers standing ready. Oh, and so far as I can tell, none of these aliens can front. It’s going to be draining for the healers.”
“They can’t front!” Aldirk seemed more surprised by that than anything else. “How very…limiting.”
“Perhaps it’s just shock from the crash,” Tal suggested, though she didn’t believe it.
“Perhaps. In light of this news, shall I cancel the scramble of the heavy weapons units?”
Tal turned to look at Captain Serrado, who was now lying in a patch of stamped-down grain with her head pillowed on what appeared to be a Guard’s jacket. Her face was pale in the moonlight, her eyes closed, and the commander radiated worry as he crouched next to her.
“Yes, cancel it.”
“Very well. I’m afraid we shall have to scramble a different team, though. Several journalists have been quite persistent in calling my assistant with demands for a statement regarding the sonic shock wave, and at least two have expressed their dissatisfaction with our explanation.”
Tal rolled her eyes. “We’re going to have to put up a perimeter.”
“I believe so, yes. You should have peace for the rest of the night—what little there is left of it—but it’s going to be difficult to keep this quiet after sunrise. I imagine a three-quarter-length alien ship lying in a field might attract some attention.”
“You have no idea. This ship is lying at the end of a five-length trench.”
“Five lengths!”
Despite the situation, Tal had a tiny moment of satisfaction at being able to evince such a response from the ever-calm Aldirk. “Yes. They crashed, Aldirk. It’s a mess.”
“Five lengths,” he muttered. “Then we’ll need aerial support to maintain the perimeter.”
“You have my authority to call up any resources you need. And you can start by telling Colonel Northcliff that her pilots have a new mission. They should be almost here by now, and they’re probably expecting a battle. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to learn they’re flying perimeter patrol instead.”
“Was that warrior humor?”
Tal smiled. “Perhaps just a little. There’s a considerable difference in glory between what they thought they’d be doing, and what they’ll actually be doing.”
“Fahla spare us a
ll from warriors and their glory hunting. Now, this may not be on the top of your list of concerns at the moment, but you and your Guards will want to return to Blacksun Base for the next few nights.”
“Why would—oh, the windows,” she said, remembering that terrifying moment.
“We have every available pair of hands covering them with construction sheeting, but there isn’t enough sheeting in the entire city to cover the damage. I only hope it doesn’t rain for the next nineday or so.”
“So it was all the windows on the south side as well?”
“Lancer Tal,” he said with exaggerated patience, “it was every window in Blacksun for a half-length swath from the southeast to the northwest edges of the city.”
“Great Mother! Is there enough sheeting on the Argolis continent for that?”
“I truly do not know, but while you are dealing with aliens, I am dealing with merchants and builders.”
His aggrieved tone almost made her laugh.
Chapter 7
Connection
If anyone had asked, Ekatya Serrado would have said it was impossible to fall asleep after fighting a major space battle, crashing her ship, and dealing with a potentially fatal first contact situation that wasn’t predicted to happen for another century. But whatever Lancer Tal had injected her with must have been one Hades of a drug. It had magically erased the pain from her leg, and she’d given in to Commander Baldassar’s insistence that she lie down for just a few minutes. Now she looked up at a moon that was hanging above the horizon, huge and brilliant. It had been higher when she’d closed her eyes.
“You’re awake,” Baldassar said.
“Barely. How long have I been out?”
The Caphenon Page 4