by T. R. Harris
The doorway faced away from the main complex of buildings, and the security camera only scanned the front of the hangars and not around the back, allowing Sherri to pull it into the dark shadows at the back of the building. The team had checked the phases of the moon before planning their mission. There was a crescent rising later in the evening, but for now it was still below the horizon. The thieves managed to get the ship out and the door closed without being seen.
Sherri steered the tractor to the left, toward the security fence separating this part of the T&D grounds with the landing field to the east. It was a journey of five hundred yards.
When they got to the fence, the huge bulk of the rusted freighter rose up above them. The thing seemed a lot bigger as it sat on the ground, and a lot dirtier. Sherri thought it could really use a paint job.
The fence at this end of the landing field was crushed and broken—just as planned—and Sherri was able to drive the stolen starship up a wide loading ramp and into the open starboard side landing bay. Once inside, Riyad closed the huge door with the aid of his ATD.
We’re in, he reported.
Roger that, said Adam’s voice within his mind. I love it when a plan comes together.
23
Jym made it to the first intersection in the hallway without being spotted, the guards and scientists fully engrossed in helping Arieel recover. From his earlier visit, he knew there was a security camera at the end of hallway, just before entering the large underground hangar. He slid along the wall until he could see it.
Conjuring up a small static electricity ball, he moved the sparkling globe of light quickly in front of the lens, before racing to the end of the hallway and into the hangar. He dissolved the ball, its brief two-second life appearing as just a brief loss of signal in the security shack, and not worthy of further inquiry. The camera was working fine now.
Jym entered the Najmah Fayd and rushed to the hallway module compartment. He reached under the back of his jacket and removed an eighteen-inch long metal contraption made of articulated parts. He pulled it apart to form a small cart with four tiny wheels. There as a coil of twine attached to one end. He set it on the floor before turning his attention to the electronics compartment.
There was a black module facing him, with a small gauge panel at the upper left side, now dark. Securing brackets to the left and right held the module, with four levered arms locking it in place. Jym released the levers and removed the module. In Earth’s gravity, the black box was heavier than he expected. It fell through his hands and to the metal deck. A loud clank echoed throughout the starship.
Jym sucked in a deep breath and waited, listening for any signs of detection. After a few seconds, he got back to work.
He reached down and removed a one-inch diameter metal rod from the small cart. He placed it against the securing brackets on the right side of the gap where he’d removed the black box. It snapped magnetically into place. Next, Jym pulled on a small lip running the length of the rod and stretched out a thin, opaque membrane over the opening. The metal along the edge of the screen was magnetic as well and latched onto the brackets on the other side of the opening. Through his ATD, he activated the small control module in the rod and a stark, 3-D image of the black module appeared on the screen. It was a picture Jym had taken of the unit a few minutes ago with a hidden camera as he and the team examined the control compartment.
Next, he lifted the module onto the cart and tied it down with a series of cross straps. Then he took off up the corridor, pulling the cart behind him.
Jym was winded and dizzy by the time he reentered the hangar. Earth’s gravity was oppressive, even with the aid of the compensating drugs. He was reaching the end of their effectiveness…and he still had a long way to go.
He slipped under the front of the TD starship and walked rapidly to the far wall. He was beyond the ability to run—scurry, in his case—so a brisk walk would have to do. He looked up and found what he was looking for. It was an air vent set about ten feet up the metal wall—and about five feet out of his reach.
Spying a roll-away tool chest, Jym moved the red multi-drawer cart to below the vent. He climbed on top and reached for the screen. As he did, the cart rolled away, careening toward the Najmah Fayd, taking Jym with it. It slammed against the metal hull, sending another round of unwanted noise bouncing off the walls of the hangar.
Jym didn’t wait to find out if he was heard. Instead, he hopped off the cart and pushed it back against the wall, this time locking the wheels in place with the aid of built-in brakes. Panting heavily, he climbed back on top of the cart.
The vent cover was held closed by two winged levers along the bottom. He twisted them and lifted the cover away on hinges along the top. Jym’s people were tree climbers, so it wasn’t too difficult for him to make his way into the two-foot square metal duct. He sat up and began to pull on the cord attached to the cart holding the module.
This turned out to be the hardest part of his mission to date. In normal gravity, it wouldn’t have been too hard to lift the cart and unit, but Earth’s gravity was not normal. He strained and groaned lifting the load, saved only by the extra strength Fulquins carried in their arms, again a product of their tree-climbing ancestry.
When the cart was in the conduit, Jym lay on the cold metal for several moments catching his breath. But he knew his fatigue was from more than just exertion, and the longer he delayed, the heavier toll gravity would take on his body. He got to his hands and knees and began to move along the metal tunnel, towing the cart behind him.
He followed the guidance of his ATD to lead him toward the circulation system’s main control hub. This involved him climbing up vertical shafts and lugging the cart up after him. His heart was pounding and his fur soaked in sweat. Add to that the cold air sweeping over his body and he was a shivering, wet mess by the time he reached the control room.
He opened a vent screen and fell to the floor, the cart tumbling in after him. At this point, he didn’t care if the module was damaged or if anyone heard the crash of the cart; he truly believed he wasn’t going to live long enough for it to matter—at least to him.
After a moment’s rest be rolled onto his stomach and looked around the room. There had to be an intake vent bringing air in from the surface. He studied the layout of the machinery, until—there it was, on top of the main fan unit.
He figured he was only one level below the surface, having climbed four from the starship hangar. Just one more to go….
His mental cheerleading was enough to get him moving again. He climbed above the fan unit and opened a side vent on the vertical conduit. Air blasted out, nearly knocking him off his perch.
This is great, he thought. Now I will have to fight a strong inflowing current.
Or did he?
Jym accessed the control computer for the ventilation system and shut it down. Alarms may go off, but he didn’t care. He just needed to get to the surface.
Like before, he climbed the vertical shaft using pressure from both his hands and feet before coming to an opening at the end of sharp one hundred eighty degree bend in the pipe. There was a thick metal grate across the opening.
Jym was at the point of no return. Either he was going to get through the grate or he would die here and now. Out of desperation, he brought forth a static electricity ball, placing it in direct contact with one of the bars of the grate. He tightened the ball until the light and heat were almost too much for him to bear. He didn’t care if the light could be seen from space. He just wanted the metal to melt.
Fortunately, the curve in the pipe kept the light confined to a small area of the cement below the grate, and when the bar broke, Jym created another ball on the bar next to it. Eight bars later, the grate fell away, along with Jym’s near comatose body.
This time it was a full five minutes before he moved again. The cool night air was cathartic, and he managed to gather the strength to lift the cart holding the TD module up and out through the pi
pe.
But that was it; Jym wasn’t going any farther.
Adam…help.
I’m here, Jym. Are you okay?
No. I am at the point of collapse.
Where are you?
Outside a vent pipe.
I’m scanning the area with one of the ship’s cameras. I know your direction; give me a signal.
Jym’s was so exhausted even thinking came hard. Yet he was able to bring up one last energy ball, if only for a few seconds.
I see you. Locking onto your ATD. Hold on, I’ll get you out of there.
Adam had never tried to remotely create an air cushion before; he didn’t even know if he could. He was on the bridge of the Nautilus with Sherri and Riyad by his side. Copernicus and Kaylor were just now being dropped off outside by an obliging airman with a Jeep, and Arieel would be along anytime.
Closing his eyes so he could concentrate on the image within his mind, Adam focused on Jym’s ATD location, forming a circle five feet in diameter around the signal. He brought in ribbons of air along the surface of the concrete pad, and when he thought it was solid enough, began to move it upwards.
The module…it is beyond the radius! Jym called out in his mind.
That’s all right. I’ll come back for it after you’re safe.
Jym didn’t protest. Instead, his body was gently lifted into the air until he was high enough to clear the security fence. He was nearly a mile away, but soon Sherri and Kaylor greeted him at the portside landing bay with a life-saving dose of the gravity drug.
In his mind, Adam traced the path back to the vent pipe. The problem: he didn’t know where the TD module was. It gave out no energy signal and the camera aboard the Nautilus couldn’t define the image, not at that distance and at night.
So Adam formed an air cushion twenty feet in diameter this time. He felt a break in the cushion’s integrity as it swirled around the thick metal pipe set in concrete. But once it climbed high enough to leave the pipe behind, the cushion formed up more evenly.
He was relieved when Riyad reported that he’d caught the TD module and it was safely in the landing bay.
Now all he had to do was retrieve Arieel.
Arieel Bol was in a small medical room attached to the security shack. It wasn’t much more than a first-aid center with a green military ambulance parked outside, the one that had brought her here a few minutes before.
Her chest was aching from the constant pumping of rough hands on her skin. Humans were extremely strong and they didn’t realize the fragility of her Formilian body. Out of desperation, she had sat up in the ambulance on the way here, proclaiming herself to be well. But that didn’t stop the medical staff—along with the three security guards who accompanied her—from continuing to assist with her recovery. They dabbed her forehead with wet clothes, wrapped pressure monitors around her arm and placed cold metal objects on her bare chest. She was dazed and unaware of her nakedness. Even if she had been, this was her duty to the mission, and by all the attention she was receiving, her mission was a success.
But now she had to get back to the ship.
She absently placed the thin metallic fiber straps over her breasts, inviting collective moan in the room. “I must return to my ship. I cannot tolerate this gravity any longer.”
“We have drugs that can help you,” said a Human with a white robe over his clothing, his voice anxious.
“That would only be temporary. I need permanent relief.”
“Of course. We’ll take you there immediately. But first, can we get a group photo…just so we can prove we met such an important dignitary?”
“Of course,” said Arieel, lighting the room up with her smile. “And tell them how you saved my life. I will be forever in your debt.”
A few minutes later, Adam met the ambulance at the portside docking bay entrance. The back doors opened and there was Arieel, along with eight men: six airmen and two Navy corpsmen. They helped her out the back and up to Adam. Some of the men saluted, others were too distracted to care.
Adam lifted the weak-kneed alien into his arms, using his mutant-enhanced muscles to make it appear effortless. Arieel wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled her head against his chest.
“It’s all right boys,” Adam said with a wicked grin. “I’ll take it from here.”
As he walked up the ramp to the landing bay, he heard though his enhanced senses one of the men remark, “Lucky bastard.”
Yes, yes he was.
All right, Kaylor, Adam said through his ATD. Give the men outside a little warning blast of exhaust gas, and then let’s get going.
I would if I could, Adam. We do not have clearance to lift-off.
With Arieel still in his arms, he walked the length of the ship to the bridge before setting her on one of the leather couches along the aft bulkhead. Sherri was there with a shot of gravity drug.
Adam slipped into the comm station. “Link me with the tower,” he growled at Kaylor.
“This is Captain Adam Cain, requesting immediate lift-off clearance.” His image on the screen verified his identity.
“I’m sorry, Captain Cain, but you have no flight plan filed, and the area is a security zone. I need authorization from FlightCon.”
“Then get it. I have a critically ill alien dignitary aboard: Arieel Bol, the Formilian Speaker. I need to get her out of Earth’s gravity immediately or she’ll die. Do you want to be responsible for that, lieutenant? Do you?”
“Sir, I’m only following protocol.”
“Is that what you want to tell the Board of Inquiry at your Courts Martial?”
“Sir—”
“Give us clearance…now!”
On the video screen, the man looked both flushed and pale at the same time. Then he nodded. “Let me clear the air above you. As you know, the area around Phoenix Command has the highest concentration of flight traffic in the galaxy.”
“Thanks for the history lesson, now snap to it.”
“Yessir. Clearance granted. Proceed out along flight vector alpha-two, one hundred forty degrees southwest.”
Adam glanced over at Kaylor, who gave him a nod.
“Thank you, lieutenant. You just averted a major intergalactic incident.”
“Yessir. Good lu—”
Adam cut the connection.
Sherri was looking at him. “You sure can be a badass when you want to be. I’m sexually turned on at the moment.”
Adam winked at her. “I yam what I yam.”
24
It was cold this morning and both security guards had their jackets zipped up to their throats; however, the frigid desert air did help to revive their tired bodies in preparation of the coming day. They drove the open air electric transport up to Hangar 3-C and Airman Anthony Ortiz hoped out. He went to the door and punched in the security code while his partner, Sergeant James Hunter, watched the orange glow on the horizon indicating a sunrise only minutes away.
Ortiz stuck his head inside the hangar. Then he went inside.
Hunter watched his partner, wondering why he went inside the hangar? It was just a visual inspection and notation in the datapad.
Wanting to stretch his legs in the chill of morning, Jim Hunter climbed from the vehicle and went to join his partner. When he pushed open the door and stepped inside, he found out what the problem was.
“They must have it over refitting, or perhaps testing.” Ortiz said.
“Yeah, I heard some bigshots came in last night to look at the one down in the bunker. Maybe they made a breakthrough. And did you see the picture the nightshift left in the shack? Damn.” Hunter checked his datapad.
“No shit, lucky bastards. Even so, whoever took the ’X out didn’t log it.”
“We better,” said Ortiz, “otherwise it will be our asses.”
“I’ll check with the shack to see if they know anything about it.” The Air Force E4 fingered his shoulder comm unit. “Hey Mike, this is Jim out at #3.”
“Go ahead.�
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“Do you have any record of XR-3 being moved? It’s not in its hangar.”
“Well, I’m sure it didn’t just decide to take a leisurely morning stroll. And who would want to steal a shell of a starship?”
“It’s not here, and there’s no record of it being taken out.”
“All right, let me check.”
A moment later a more concerned-sounding Airman Mike Walters came on the line. “I have no record of it either. I’ll call over to Testing and see if they have it over there. Stay where you are until I confirm.”
Forty minutes later the base was abuzz with activity. After much confusion and finger-pointing, it was concluded that the prototype vessel XR-3 was indeed missing, and when this information reached the upper floors of the main T&D building, all hell broke loose.
General Paul Sharp had spent the night in his office, first entertaining his guest Captain Adam Cain, and then jacked up on worry that something was about to happen. After the ugly space freighter left the base, he was able to relax, finally falling off to sleep around oh-three-hundred. Four hours later he was wide awake and taking the short elevator ride down to the underground bunker holding the TD starship.
He knew it was it there; that had already been confirmed. But was it all there? That was the question. And why would Cain take a starship without a power component. His analytical mind was already coming to a conclusion even before he looked into the control compartment.
Early investigators had discovered the video screen. It was a rather crude method of hiding the theft, and unnecessary as it turned out. Cain was long gone by the time of the discovery.
Sharp put a comm pad to his mouth. “Get me the tower.” he barked.
“Phoenix Tower, Senior Chief Rebecca Ferguson speaking. How can I help you sir or ma’am?”
“This is General Sharp. Call up the lift-off logs for last night, those from the T&D fields.”
“Sir, I will need your authorization code.”