VOR 03 Island of Power

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VOR 03 Island of Power Page 5

by Smith, Dean Wesley


  Stephanie was, too. Now that she was there she knew there was no way she’d set foot on this island without them.

  Bogle undid his seat belt and stood.

  She and Hank followed his example. Her hand went to the pocket with the pistol, but she didn’t pull it out to load it yet. It just felt good to know it was there.

  “I’m damned glad they’re along, too,” Stanton said as he stood. “But they still scare me.”

  There was no sound coming from outside the Hydra.

  Beside her Hank placed a clip into the rifle and snapped it home.

  Stephanie looked at him. “You really think there might be trouble?”

  He shrugged. “Anything could happen.”

  “Truer than you know,” Stanton said grimly, loading his pistol.

  Lee snapped a clip into his rifle, as did the others with rifles.

  Hank glanced at her. “Better load a clip into the pistol just in case. You never know what we’re going to find out there.”

  Stephanie nodded and pulled out the pistol. She slid a clip into place, made sure it was secure, then put it back into her pocket without pulling a shell into the chamber. Surprisingly, that simple action made her feel better. A little more confident, a little more relaxed.

  Suddenly the door snapped open, startling them all. She felt as if her heart might explode right at that moment.

  “Clear,” came Sergeant Malone’s deep voice from outside.

  “Hey, Malone, you scared the hell out of us in here,” Bogle grumbled.

  Stephanie followed the rest to the hatch and then down the slight ramp to the ground, a concrete-looking surface that at one time might have been white, but was now stained with swirling black and brown. She wanted to bend down at once and inspect it, but she refrained and looked around instead.

  The air smelled of sea, of dampness, and a faint rotting odor that Stephanie couldn’t place.

  The closest buildings must once have boasted smooth surfaces, but were now cracked and punched full of holes. She could see empty rooms inside, but nothing else. They were all about three stories tall, with flat roofs and no obvious doors or windows. The structures were linked together from the second story down, forming a continuous wall along both sides of the street. In fact, the street must have been a kind of a whitewashed gutter with three-story-high walls when it was new. Odd, Stephanie thought.

  Very alien.

  Then she noticed Hank looking up, and she followed his gaze, up into the unbelievably tall buildings at the center of the island. Even from this distance the buildings seemed to tower over them. Even the ones whose top portions had been destroyed were far taller than any Earth buildings. They gleamed in the white light of the Maw almost as if they’d been built to do so. In places they even seemed to sparkle.

  Stephanie stood there in sheer awe, almost overwhelmed by both the beauty and the alienness of the place.

  “I’d love to go inside one of those big towers,” Hank said softly, so only she could hear.

  “Maybe you will,” she said. “Who knows?”

  “This place is very strange,” Lee said.

  “Creepy,” Edaro said, rolling the golf ball in the fingers of one hand.

  She had to agree. Under her awe at seeing such an alien place was a sense of unease. And of danger.

  She glanced around. Only three of the troopers were in sight, along with Malone. One stood guard while the other two unloaded the supplies and tested equipment. Stanton and Bogle had joined them to make sure the equipment didn’t get damaged. Lee and Edaro were standing next to Hank, staring at the city spread out in front of them.

  Suddenly two of the troopers emerged from a hole in a nearby building and gave Malone a signal.

  The building they were in was the only one standing between two piles of rubble that had obviously once been similar structures. It faced out onto the wide street and looked solid. And defensible. At least to Stephanie’s untrained eye.

  “Okay, people,” Malone said. “That building will be our headquarters. Let’s get all this equipment in there and set up.”

  With one last glance at the tall, spirelike buildings at the center of the city, Stephanie turned and went to help.

  The inside of the building was wide-open, a giant space bigger than any gymnasium she’d ever seen. It must have stretched clear across to the other street. A circular ramp led up to the next level, which was another seemingly large, open space with nothing in it. Both rooms smelled of dampness and decay. Both had debris piled in the corners and what looked like stains or watermarks on the walls.

  Stephanie went over to one wall, pulled out a flashlight, and lightly ran her free hand over the marks. The wall’s surface was smooth and cold to the touch. The mark was a stain that didn’t rub off and ran all the way around the room. Everything above the mark was a slightly different color. If she had to guess, she would bet it was a watermark, and that this area had once been underwater.

  Then she noticed another watermark just slightly higher on the wall. And then a third up near the high ceiling when she shined her light up that way. This city had apparently been in other oceans or lakes at one time or another. But which oceans? Had it been to Earth before? Or were these marks from an alien ocean?

  Did the island move around a lot?

  A lot of questions that needed answering.

  She glanced around the big, empty space. Hank and Bogle were investigating the pile of junk in one corner. Lee and Chop Edaro had gone up the ramp to the second floor to explore.

  She looked around her. What could this place possibly have been used for? Had some creature lived here?

  What did that creature look like?

  What caused the hole in the wall?

  Too many questions and no answers.

  “People?” Sergeant Malone shouted to them. “We need to get the supplies unloaded.”

  After thirty minutes and a half dozen trips to the shuttle, they had all the equipment moved, and Stephanie was sweating intensely. She desperately wanted to take off the Kevlon jacket. But she didn’t.

  She didn’t even open it up.

  And she noticed that none of the others did either.

  6

  Time: 10:19 A . M . Pacific Time

  8 hours, 48 minutes after Arrival

  The white light of the Maw glinted in Sergeant Phoebe Malone’s eyes as she watched the transport lift off, moving almost silently east, back out over the ocean toward the mainland. She was actually relieved it was gone. They would soon be on the move and having to guard the craft would be a pointless waste of her resources. She and her squad were now alone on the island with the team of scientists. Nine, counting her, to guard six. She’d have liked to have more men but would do the job with what she had. Besides, a second transport would be standing by just off the island as backup if they needed it. This site would become their main base if the scientists gave word the island was stable enough to support it. But she knew that would take a few hours to accomplish.

  One thing was for certain—within the next hour there would be good air-cover support around the island. That would ease her mind some, when it happened.

  She clicked her uplink to the base. “Transport away.”

  “Copy.”

  The voice from the base was clearly audible in her earpiece. They would be monitoring the situation via feeds from three different helmet-mounted cameras. One in hers, one in Jenkins’s helmet, and one in Cort’s. The mission was as secure as it could be, considering the quick-response time.

  She glanced around at the empty alien buildings, the slick walls, the high rooftops. She’d posted two of her men in the rubble of those buildings at points where they could see her. She couldn’t see them, as it should be.

  She turned and stepped back over the fallen wall, moving into the alien building. As she entered Private Jenkins was spreading the photomaps out on the camp table he had set up. Jenkins was a big, red-haired man. All her men were good, but he was one of
the best. She relied on him and the dark-haired, slow-talking Private Cort.

  The maps had come from photographs supplied by orbiting battle platforms combined with images from the Hydra’s low pass around the island on the way in. The maps looked almost three-dimensional, but she could tell that a lot of information was missing. Many of the streets between the tall buildings had photographed so dark that there was no telling what was down in there.

  Or inside any of the thousands of buildings. Buildings seemingly without doors or windows. She knew the orifices had to be there, but so far she couldn’t figure out where. A problem to be solved later.

  The images of aliens cutting down whoever had been their foe flashed through her mind. She was glad the major had briefed her with that tape from the Cache. Those creatures had been damned ugly, grotesque but well armed. The mummylike look of their legs and arms had spooked her some, but she hadn’t let on to Major Lancaster. Just seeing factual evidence of the existence of aliens in the universe had shocked her to her core. The fact that they wore golden armor and seemed to be walking dead was almost beyond her.

  But at least she hadn’t been sent in without a warning that they might run into just about anything. If it were up to her, though, that wouldn’t happen. The last thing she wanted was to run into a living, breathing creature from God knew where. Especially one like those in the briefing tape.

  The six civilians gathered around the map and began to discuss which direction they should head, what area would offer the best prospects for investigation.

  She ignored them and turned to make sure the rest of the equipment was getting set up. The first thing running when they got off the transport had been a proximity motion detector, and her people as well as the scientists had been given spotting devices to wear in their vests. That detector would tell them instantly if anything strange moved within a hundred meters of this location in all directions. It would also give her the exact location of any of her squad or the civilians, including what level of the buildings they were on.

  The detector could sense heat and motion from bodies through walls and ground. So far they hadn’t run into anything it couldn’t penetrate. And luckily the alien walls weren’t blocking it. Her men showed up on the screen as blue dots, the civilians as green dots. Anything else moving would show red. The device would be operational for as long as they were in the alien city.

  Radiation detectors and the energy sensors were coming on-line as she moved over to the small stand holding the compact equipment.

  “Report,” she ordered.

  Private Waters, the youngest member of her squad, didn’t even look up. “Low radiation,” he said. “But I have a faint energy source.”

  “What?” Dr. Stanton asked, turning from the map and crossing the twenty steps to where she stood.

  “Pinpoint it, Private,” Malone said, ignoring the rest of the civilians also gathering around.

  “Hard to do exactly, Sergeant,” Waters said, working the equipment. “The signal I’m getting from the energy source is weak. Shielded maybe. I’d say at least a kilometer directly inland from here. Underground maybe. Sorry, just can’t tell.”

  “Human or alien?”

  “Can’t tell that either, Sergeant.”

  “What kind of energy?” Stanton asked.

  Waters only shrugged.

  “We need to get closer,” Malone said. “Is that what you’re telling me, Private?”

  “Exactly,” Waters said.

  Dr. Downer glanced around at the others. “I say we check it out.”

  The rest just nodded.

  Malone agreed with them, but for different reasons. Their job was to investigate scientifically any technology or phenomena that showed up here. Her job was multipronged: to protect the civilian team so they could do their work but also to scout the island to learn if it was a threat to the Union. Finally, she was to secure it for the Union to keep it away from the Neo-Soviets. If the energy source the private had pinpointed was the only one on the island, that’s where she wanted to go, too.

  “Pack it up,” she ordered Waters and Jenkins. “We move out in five minutes.”

  She strode over to the maps, the scientists following like dogs at her heels. She stared at the images spread out on the table for a moment. She had studied maps for years, knew what she could get out of them and what information she couldn’t trust from them.

  She ran her finger along the wide street or boulevard that fronted this building. “We go inland along this route for as far as we can. When it’s blocked, we move to the south and keep heading inland.”

  She turned to Downer. “That suit your purposes?”

  “Perfectly,” he said, nodding.

  “Good. Make sure your weapons are loaded and be ready and outside in four minutes.”

  She turned and went back toward the hole in the wall leading to the street. On the way she keyed her commlink to the frequency only her men shared. “We move inland in four minutes. Gather up at the shuttle site. I’m going to want two-by-two cover movement on point down both sides of the street. Vasquez, Hawk, you two will keep a good distance behind the main group. Standard civilian-cover formation otherwise.”

  Then she climbed through the hole in the wall and out into the light. The civilians followed her. A moment later Private Jenkins came out carrying the equipment on his back. Waters followed him with the maps and the motion detector, which was still on and functioning. They’d all brought some extra equipment along for the mission. A little of everything, not really knowing what they might run into.

  She nodded at Waters, then glanced around at the scientists. A couple of them held their rifles as if they knew how to use them. She made a mental note of whom, then looked inland along the street. The alienness of it all didn’t much impress her. She had fought in her share of strange environments over the past years. This was just one more.

  She watched as Privates Cort and Marva took up positions along the right side of the street and Harden and Raynor along the left.

  Hawk and Vasquez fanned out back toward the water.

  Jenkins and Waters flanked the scientists.

  “Everyone spread out at least four meters apart,” she told the scientists. “Keep that distance as long as we’re moving. One stops, we all stop. Understand?”

  They all nodded.

  “Good. Stay behind me. Jenkins, make damn sure that motion detector is working. I want to know if something’s coming at us.”

  “Got it, Sarge,” Jenkins said.

  She turned and looked toward the tall, alien buildings filling the center of the island. “Move out,” she said into her commlink. She knew that as soon as they cleared the area another shuttle would land and secure this position as a base.

  Malone watched as her four lead men went ahead about a hundred paces, then she walked out into the middle of the alien street, hands poised on her Bulldog rifle. She began to move forward, pace slow and sure, timed to keep the same exact distance behind her point men.

  She knew the camera in her helmet was sending back pictures that would be an important source of information later on. She was going to do this right and by the book. And they were all going to get out of here alive, if she had anything to say about it.

  Behind her she could hear her charges fall into position. But her gaze didn’t waver, scanning the openings of every building, the shadows cast by the ruins, the open spaces between the structures running to the left and right.

  Like a well-oiled machine, the little brigade moved forward, deeper into the tall buildings of the ruined alien city.

  7

  Time: 10:42 A . M . Pacific Time

  9 hours, 11 minutes after Arrival

  Silence.

  Deadness.

  Ruin.

  Alienness.

  All of it ate at Hank, dug at his nerves, twisted his stomach. But it was the silence that bothered him most. It pressed down on them from the tall white buildings like a heavy, invisible weight. T
hey were far enough into the smooth canyons between the buildings that not even the wind seemed to blow there. And the light from the Maw only made it halfway down the featureless, ten-story walls, keeping them in shadow, increasing the feeling of pressure from the silence.

  The smell of the ocean had faded, replaced now with a stale smell that at times Hank thought might almost choke him.

  Moving ahead of the main group the four soldiers on point moved silently along the base of the buildings, one trooper on each side of the street giving cover while the other two ran forward, took up positions, and gave cover for the two following.

  Hank watched as Malone walked slowly and carefully at the head of their group, her head moving back and forth, always vigilant, keeping perfect time and position with the point men.

  He held the Pitbull assault rifle across his stomach, barrel facing down toward the smooth, stonelike surface of the street. It felt reassuring to hold it. And he was very glad he knew how to use it.

  None of them had said a word for a long way as they moved up the street. They walked slowly, staring at everything they could see, not even the sound of their footsteps enough to break the quiet of the dead city.

  Stephanie was to his right, four meters away, an intense look on her face as she gazed at the alien structures around them. She had one hand in her jacket pocket, probably gripping her pistol. Hank could tell that she, too, was unnerved by the silence and the dread of the unknown.

  By the time Sergeant Malone called a halt, they had gone, by Hank’s best guess, the equivalent of about six city blocks. But here in this city, there was no such thing as a block. The street they were traveling was cut at uneven intervals by other streets moving off at ninety-degree angles. And there seemed to be no reason for the varying sizes, no patterns to them. So far, in six human city blocks, they had gone through eleven alien intersections.

  Many of the buildings they passed had large holes in their sides, as if the walls had simply collapsed. Hank could see no sign that force had been used either inward or outward on any of the damaged areas. The walls looked like they had simply fallen, more than likely from age. And falling down from age was far better than seeing signs of battles. Evidence of fighting was the last thing he wanted to see.

 

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