by Thomas Stone
“That’s not necessary,” said Penbrook. “No one’s here.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s the way I left it. I could tell if someone had been here.”
The door continued to open, the gap widening by the second.
“Pardon me if I don’t take your word for it.” The Major instructed his men to enter and check the space below.
As soon as the gap was wide enough, six troopers ducked and entered. Denforth watched them disappear down the ramp but kept in communications via his radio headset. The troopers were heavily armed with the latest weapons and combat technology Earth science had to offer. The standard weapon for Denforth’s men was a Bullpup flechette rifle, which fired deadly carbon steel sabots in either full automatic or single shot mode. Every other man carried a motion sensor and all had infrared vision goggles. Jennings had admired the flechette rifles at first sight and considered the idea of asking for one of his own.
“Dark down here,” came the first report over Denforth’s earpiece.
“Look for a light switch,” the Major replied.
Overhearing him, Penbrook said, “It’s on the right at the bottom of the ramp.”
Denforth relayed the information and in moments light washed up from the interior. A minute later, Denforth received an all-clear message. Leaving six men in teams of two surrounding the area above ground, Denforth led the remainder of his contingent down the ramp.
Jennings and Penbrook trailed the Major, Penbrook with a smile on his face and Jennings glancing about as if looking for a way out.
*
Inside the alien ship orbiting Mirabel, a radio signal from the surface was noted and triangulated. Dark forces conferred. Subsequently, plans were changed and a course correction altered the ship’s destination from the human settlement called Jennings Bank to a heretofore secret location within the great Mirabelian desert. Silently, invisible to the naked eye and impervious to sensor scans, the ship moved towards the surface.
*
Much as Penbrook had done a short time before, Luther Cross rifled through the cabinets in the lounge of Fagen’s super-truck as young Ellis and Tringl watched from the couches. A trooper stood at the open door keeping an eye on all three.
Dissatisfied with the foodstuffs he found, Cross slammed one cabinet door after another.
“There’s no real food in here,” Cross complained.
“Why don’t you just be grateful for what you have?” mumbled Ellis.
Eyeing the younger, smaller man, Cross froze. “What’d you say?”
“Nothing,” said Ellis.
Cross came out from behind the counter, his body a threatening hulk before Ellis. “You gettin’ smart with me?”
Ellis said nothing.
Cross pointed a thick finger at Ellis’ face. “Just ‘cause you’re on good terms with Jennings don’t mean nothin’ to me. The high days of Gary Jennings are behind. I’m going to be calling the shots from here on out.”
Ellis couldn’t help himself. He raised his head and met Luther’s pig-eyed gaze. “What world do you live in, Luther? Jennings is out there with Major Denforth while you’re a prisoner in here. I’d say the worm has turned.”
“Why you little shit!” Cross reached for Ellis but the boy ducked.
Cross went for him again, drawing back a meaty fist only to be stopped by Tringl’s hand closing over his. Tringl’s opposing thumbs pressed together and Luther flinched then relaxed as Tringl let him go. Without a sound, Tringl stood his ground until the guard interceded.
“That’s enough,” said the trooper. “Mind yourself, big fella.”
Luther wasn’t sure whether the trooper referred to him or the orange alien but, with a sneer, Luther backed off and returned to ransacking the kitchen stores.
*
Denforth directed his men to conduct a methodical search of the complex which took the eleven troopers just under forty minutes to accomplish. There was, as Penbrook said from the outset, no one there.
Upon hearing the news, the Major turned to the old man and asked how long he’d been living there.
“A long time,” he replied.
“Seems like you would’ve fixed it up a little more. This place doesn’t look habitable.”
Penbrook said nothing.
“All right everybody, listen up. I want all the vehicles brought into the holding area. I want two more sentries outside and I want a power fence put up before anybody even thinks about bedding down. We’re staying here for the night and, if it turns into an extended stay, this is going to be our base of operations. Leave the outer door open and place a guard on it. Am I clear?”
One by one, team leaders checked in over the radio circuit and confirmed Denforth’s instructions. The trucks and desert vehicles, seven altogether, rumbled down the ramp and arranged themselves in the underground garage. Ellis and Cross were escorted out of Minerva-Too and taken to a conference room on the first level which the Major designated for the four civilians in his charge. None liked it, except for Penbrook who seemed to be compliant with anything he was asked.
“Are we prisoners?” asked Jennings.
“You’re free to use the head and take a stroll, if you like, but do not associate with my troopers,” replied Denforth. “They’re working and I won’t have them distracted.”
“Aren’t you afraid we’ll run off?” spat Luther.
“Where are you going to go?” replied Denforth, turning away.
A soldier came rushing up the refuse-strewn corridor toward the Major. “Sir?”
“Yes?”
“We just received word our ship has found our target. Radar blip 232 klicks to the northwest fitting the profile.”
“I thought it was still in orbit.”
“It vanished, sir. Apparently utilizing an advanced stealth mode.”
“And made it down to the surface?”
“Apparently, sir.”
“What is it doing?”
“Just sitting.”
“All right then. We’ll assume they are aware of our presence. Raise alert level to yellow. Pass the word.”
“Yes, sir.” The trooper ran off to complete his orders. Denforth started on his way again, but was halted by Jennings.
“Major?”
Denforth stopped. “What is it Jennings? I have things to attend to.”
“There’s more than one threat out here, you know.”
“I am aware of your creatures, Mr. Jennings. So far, they haven’t made an appearance. If they do, my men will deal with them.”
“And what about Fagen? What makes you think he’ll come back?”
Denforth gazed at Jennings for a long moment before breaking into a smile, the first Jennings had seen on the stern commander’s face. “Why, don’t you know? He’s got a hero complex. It’s all in his psych profile. He’ll return here to rescue you.”
*
Specialist Pat Ramey stood above the hole he and his teammate, Specialist Roy Vickers, had just completed digging. It was not an appealing place to spend the night, but at least the sandy ground was soft and it was, after all, part of the job of soldiering. The two labored for two hours along with three other teams to rig the power fence and dig in. Night had fallen and, Ramey thought, at least the temperature had dropped.
“I’d rather be cold than hot any day,” said Ramey to Vickers.
“I’d rather be in that colonial settlement inside a pleasure palace getting my tubes cleaned,” replied Vickers.
“Yeh well, first things first.” Ramey tossed a pebble at the fence and nodded when it was met with a pop from the electric discharge. “This is Ramey,” he said into his mic. “Fence tested fivers at my location. Settling in for the night.”
“Roger that,” came back the reply.
Vickers placed his Bullpup within easy reach and stretched out in the bottom of the hole with his hands behind his head. “Clear night,” he commented.
“Uh-huh. I’ll wake you in
four hours.”
Vickers responded by half-turning to his right and closing his eyes. Inside a minute, he was asleep.
Ramey shook his head. Vickers could sleep anywhere and turn it on and off like a switch. Ramey wished he had the same ability, but he didn’t and that’s why he usually got the first watch rotation. The position they’d chosen was high enough so Ramey had a good view of the desert in all directions as well as good visuals of the other teams’ locations, although now that it was dark all he could see were the silhouettes of the other sentries as they slowly moved about their own dug-in positions. The desert was dark in every direction with the only light coming from the stars overhead. One of Mirabel’s moons rose in the east and added a little light to the scene. In an hour, when the moon had risen higher, Ramey imagined the surrounding desert would be lit up. Anything would have a hard time creeping up.
There were things to creep up too, so Ramey had heard. Creatures, ferocious creatures, native to the planet, so the rumor went, that could do strange things. Brazen men as well, from the looks of those they’d captured. Who were those guys? Well, it wasn’t his concern. He was just a grunt. Those guys were Denforth’s problem, not his.
A flash of light to the left caught Ramey’s attention. He didn’t see it full on and when he turned it was gone. Ramey spoke into his mic, “Anybody see that?”
“Yeh,” came the reply. “That’s what you call ‘dry lightnin’. I seen it hundreds a’ times. Atmospheric discharge. Nothin’ to worry about.”
“Roger that,” said Ramey. He adjusted his rifle’s shoulder strap and walked a few steps more to the left, staring at the spot from which the light had come. The breeze came up, brushing past his face and for a moment he thought he smelled engine oil.
*
Jennings brushed the accumulated dust from the top of one of the desks and set his pack at one end for a pillow. Ellis, sans boots and socks, inspected his toes as Tringl looked on with interest. Penbrook sat in a corner on the floor and watched them all, especially Luther Cross who lingered in the open doorway watching the soldiers come and go.
“Well,” said Penbrook, “here we are again.”
Jennings glanced at the old man before stretching out on the desktop. “Yep,” was all he said.
Ellis looked up briefly but soon returned to his inspection.
Cross scratched himself and addressed Emory. “You say you been here by yourself all these years?”
“That’s correct.”
“How’d you do that?”
Emory shrugged. “I like my own company.”
“It’s a lucky man who can live in his own skin,” muttered Jennings.
“What would you know about it?” snapped Luther.
“I’ve done all right,” replied Jennings.
“Yeh. Living off other people’s work.”
Jennings sat up. “Luther, what exactly is your problem?”
Luther stared at Jennings who finally responded by lying down again. Seeking sleep or relief from his companions, he threw an arm over his eyes. Luther glanced at Penbrook who sat unmoving in the corner, watching. Cross smiled and sniffed, “I’m going for a stroll. It’s gettin’ close in here.” He headed out the door.
“That man does not like you,” said Penbrook.
“He doesn’t like himself,” responded Jennings.
Luther strolled down the hall to the locker room and glanced inside. The soldiers had left supplies and water bottles in plain view so Luther helped himself before continuing toward the garage. Both airlock doors were open to allow for foot traffic and Luther was able to step straight through onto the loading dock. Directly in front of the outside door the soldiers had set up a machine gun post. Two troopers manned the position and, past them, at the bottom of the ramp, another lingered. One trooper at the heavy gun was dozing while the other sat watching Cross.
“Hi,” said Luther.
The soldier nodded in return.
“Where’s the Major?”
The soldier jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the ramp. “Walking the perimeter,” the soldier curtly explained.
Without asking permission, Cross went down the steps and walked towards the ramp. Another trooper at the ramp watched him approach but said nothing. “I want to talk to the Major,” said Cross as he walked past. The soldier said nothing and Luther continued on his way.
At the top of the ramp, Luther saw Denforth not fifty meters away speaking to a subordinate. As Luther watched, Denforth fiddled with something and handed it to the soldier. Denforth then removed a tube from his utility belt, unscrewed the cap from one end and held the tube aloft. In moments, a soft buzzing filled the air above Luther’s head. An amorphous cloud formed and then thinned out into a stream no wider than a pencil’s breadth. The end of the stream directed itself toward the open container held aloft by Denforth, and within seconds every particle had flown inside. Nanobots.
The Major capped the container and handed it to the soldier. He saw Luther and motioned for him to approach.
As Luther approached, Denforth snapped at him, “What are you doing out here?”
Luther feigned surprise at Denforth’s tone. “Gettin’ some air, seein’ what’s going on.”
“Well, you’ve had a look. Now get back inside.”
“Wait a minute. I wanna talk to you.”
“What about?”
“Well, our arrangement.”
“What arrangement is that?”
“You know,” Luther prodded. “I help you and you help me.”
“Just what is it you have done for me?”
“I led you to Jennings.”
“It’s not Jennings I’m looking for.”
“He’ll lead you to the others.”
“That remains to be seen, Mr. Cross.”
“Come on, we had a deal.”
“The deal was you’d help me find Fagen and the ship.”
Luther’s anger rose but all he could do was repeat himself. “We had a deal!”
Denforth addressed the accompanying soldier. “Trooper, take this man back inside.”
“Yes, sir.”
Brandishing his weapon in Cross’s face, the soldier none too gently pushed Luther in the direction of the garage ramp.
Luther looked back as the trooper led him away. “We had a deal!”
Denforth turned away.
With no other choice, Luther allowed himself to be pushed along back down the ramp and into the garage. The soldier accompanied him all the way to the dock where the other soldiers watched with amused expressions as the civilian was escorted back inside the complex.
At the locker room, the trooper let Luther go with an admonishment. “You’re free to wander around down here, but don’t go outside. Next time, we won’t be so nice.” The soldier lowered his rifle and stepped inside the locker room. At first, Luther pretended to walk away. Instead, he halted in the vacant hallway and crept back to the open door where he peeked around the corner and watched where the soldier put the nanobot cylinder.
*
“Okay,” said Bart to Fagen, “Here’s how we’re avoiding the damping field and running the scan for Harry and Kathleen. It’s really easy and I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before.” Bart threw a sidelong glance at Arai. Arai responded by rolling his eyes.
Unaccustomed to Arai’s newfound sophistication, Fagen stared at Arai a long moment before returning his attention to Bart.
“Instead of directing our sensors the ordinary way through a full-powered passive scan that ‘listens’ for a continuous wavelength, I’ve re-set the modulation to automatically switch to discontinuous waves.”
“Frequency modulation,” volunteered Minerva.
Bart smiled at her understandingly. “No dear. That’s something else.”
Minerva’s brow wrinkled.
“We are phase-shifting our directed listening sensors. Kind of like turning them on and off at a high rate. The effect is that we’re getting around the
damping field.”
“So,” said Fagen, “what are we getting? Have you found Harry and Kathleen?”
Bart paused. “Well, no, not yet.”
“How long is it going to take?”
Bart thought for a moment. “This method of passive scanning is slower. It’s going to take a while to scan the entire area. We’re only scanning a few square kilometers here, but it’s got to be done systematically.”
“Okay, how long?”
Bart shrugged. “At least a couple of hours. Maybe more.”
“It can’t be safe sitting here like this. The Tec’Lissir...”
Minerva completed his sentence, “...are sure to zero in on us.”
“Not necessarily,” said Arai. “The last contact we had, their ship was passing over the horizon. They’re on the other side of the planet.”
“How long until they come around again?”
“If they maintain their orbital velocity, uh, let’s see, that’d be forty-two minutes, give or take a few seconds.”
“We won’t be finished by then,” Bart pointed out.
Fagen sighed. “Do the best you can. We’re not going to leave Harry and Kathleen here.”
Bobbi stepped into the control room, hair still wet from her bath, but anxious to see the changes Edward had referred to. Except for Harry and Kathleen, they were all there. At a glance, Bobbi could see something was amiss. Instead of Bart, Arai sat at the main control console speaking to a man who looked similar to Bart, minus a hundred pounds or so. Minerva sat beside Arai, but she too looked different. Her hair style or something -- Bobbi could not quite put her finger on it.
Edward saw Bobbi and walked over. He planted a kiss atop her wet head and turned to face the others. They all looked at Bobbi and grinned; even Arai whose efforts at showing human expressions made him look threatening. “How are you, Bobbi?” said Arai. “So relieved to see you are all right.”
Minerva rose from her position and crossed the room. “Ditto,” she said. “It’s good not to be the only woman here.” Bobbi realized she could hear Minerva’s footsteps. When she was near enough, Bobbi reached out and touched her shoulder, felt the firmness of her arm.