by Isaac Hooke
“You would know that about Harlequin,” Manic said.
“Bender and I are lovers,” Harlequin announced. “We—”
“Shut the hell up, AI!” Bender said. “The only thing I love about your ass is slamming my boot against it!”
“So that’s what he calls his snake...” Fret said.
“You bitches are lucky we’re about to deploy,” Bender said. “That’s all I can say. If you didn’t have faceplates protecting you, the two of you would be missing teeth right now.”
“Don’t let our faceplates stop you,” Manic said.
“You run an interesting team, Mr. Galaal,” Corunna said.
“I do indeed.” Rade glanced at the overhead map. All of the Argonauts had boarded the two shuttles. “Harlequin, preflight check, please.”
“Yes, boss,” Harlequin replied.
Rade glanced at the cockpit area, where Harlequin resided in the pilot seat. Shaw had sat there on the last few missions. A part of him would miss her during the operation, but another part was relieved that she was staying aboard the Argonaut and out of harm’s way. Then again, just because she remained on the ship didn’t mean she was completely safe: the Argonaut had been attacked and boarded by intruders in previous missions.
Still, in his mind, staying aboard the Argonaut was far safer than participating in away missions. It also meant one less person he had to worry about down there—or in her case, three people, if he counted the unborn twins. While she could hold her own in a firefight, if he had his way, he would have preferred she stayed behind for every operation. Unfortunately, Shaw could be a little stubborn when it came to that.
Still, after the twins are born, I could always order her to remain behind when missions come up. She recognizes my authority over the ship, after all. She always has. She might pout and cry about it, but she’ll listen.
He smiled sadly. He knew he couldn’t do that to her. If she wanted to come, wanted to fight, who was he to hold her back? She owned most of the ship, after all. And all of his heart.
A call from Shaw came in while Harlequin performed the preflight check on both shuttles. She remained on the Argonaut’s bridge, at her astrogator station.
Rade picked up, voice only.
“Thinking about me?” she asked.
“All the time,” Rade said. He tried to inject some sarcastic humor into his voice, but instead the words came off stilted.
“I’ve thought about the names you suggested,” Shaw said. “I like them.”
“Good,” Rade said. “I knew you’d see reason. Naming your kids so they sound like pet cats is never a good idea.”
Shaw giggled. “Max and Jojo aren’t cat names.”
“Yeah well, they’re certainly not human names,” Rade said. “Maybe we can use those on some of the Centurions.”
She laughed again. “I’ll be the official robot namer, going forward.”
“You will indeed,” Rade said.
“Alex and Sil,” Shaw said, becoming serious.
“That’s right,” Rade said.
“Perfect names for perfect twins.”
“Agreed.”
“I almost wish they weren’t fraternal,” Shaw said. “Identical twins would be so much fun. Can you imagine the confusion and all the little games they’d play on us?”
“I’m sure it would have been a blast,” Rade commented dryly. He glanced at the flashing light on his HUD. Harlequin was signaling that he had finished the preflight check of both shuttles. “Anyway, it’s time to launch.”
“I know,” Shaw said. “You be careful down there, you hear?”
“Always am,” Rade said.
“Ha!” Shaw said. “You always say that.”
“And I’m always careful,” Rade insisted.
Shaw sighed audibly. “Okay well, before you go, just so you know...”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want you to think that just because we’re having kids, I’m never participating in a drop again,” Shaw said. “I’m not going to be a permanent babysitter, remember that.”
“The thought never crossed my mind,” Rade lied.
“Liar,” Shaw said.
“Okay, maybe a few times,” he joked. “But hey, I’m sure our expensive combat robots will love playing babysitter in the future.”
“I’m sure they will,” Shaw said. “Seriously, be careful down there, my warrior.”
“You, too,” Rade replied. “Don’t let any unsavory characters board my ship. Not including the men, of course.”
“Good thing you added that qualifier,” Shaw said. “Because if I was counting the Argonauts, I wouldn’t be able to let any of them aboard. Except maybe you.”
“Yes, I’m a paragon of virtue,” Rade said. “I’m switching over to the main comm. Talk to you there.” He activated the common band. “Shaw, do you read?”
“Loud and clear,” Shaw answered.
“That’s right, boss,” Bender said. “Try to pretend the two of you weren’t having a nice lovey-dovey chat a few seconds ago. I saw your lips moving behind your faceplate. Ooo, Shaw, I loooove you. Ooo, Rade, me too! Come sex me up one more time before you go?”
“We were talking about the mission,” Rade said firmly.
“Of course,” Bender said with a knowing glint in his eye.
“Tahoe, take us out,” Rade commanded.
Tahoe, who was aboard the first shuttle, gave the orders for the ramps to close, and then instructed the shuttles to launch in turn.
three
Rade felt the zero gravity immediately when the craft traveled into the void of space. He dismissed the sudden queasiness in his stomach. Even after hundreds of shuttle trips, he still felt nausea when entering the void. He wasn’t entirely certain if that was actually due to the zero gravity, or some premission jitters triggered by it.
He switched to the viewpoint of the shuttle’s external camera, and kept his head very still so as not to worsen his nausea. The black ball of Daedalus V awaited below, eating up the stars. The Argonaut sheltered in the shadow of the planet, so that the dark side faced the starship, and the shuttles.
As the craft continued forward, the binary stars rose into view from beyond the horizon. The photochromatic filters in the camera autogated, compensating for the sudden brightness. The first star was white, the size of a fist, while the second was bluish-white, and about as big as a thumbnail. The two were separated by the span of a finger, and both were egg-shaped, thanks to the gravitational pull of their neighbor, but the condition was more pronounced in the bigger star—material from the corona streamed toward the smaller, so that it appeared similar to a balloon with one side stretched out of proportion. The coronal gases formed an accretion disk as they spiraled around the bluer star. Usually, such celestial disks emitted incredible amounts of cosmic radiation as the gases were accreted.
“How are the radiation levels?” Rade asked.
“The magnetosphere is deflecting most of it,” Harlequin said. “And the shuttle armor is protecting us from the rest.”
“What about heat levels?”
“Negligible at the moment,” Harlequin said. “Though the heat will steadily increase as we approach the surface.”
The two suns remained close to the black horizon of the planet as the shuttles continued toward the destination, and eventually the stars began to retreat beneath the far side of the hemisphere once more as Harlequin piloted the craft downward. After a few minutes the suns appeared to set, although their afterglow continued to delineate the distant horizon. Or perhaps that was the incandescence of the lava oceans just beyond. Either way, Rade suspected that if there had been an atmosphere on the planet, the sky would have been colored the red of predawn.
Rade focused on the Russian research station set amid the solidified lava field below. White and blue landing lights illuminated a sprawling series of solid, mirrorlike domes connected by can-shaped passageways on the black surface. There were no obvious defenses anywhere t
o protect the base from aggressors or meteor impacts. Though admittedly, given that the research station was nestled well within Russian territory, the chances of an attack from pirates or other aggressors was low. As for meteor impacts, that particular planetary system was old enough for most of the comets and asteroids to have settled into fixed, known orbits, and with the advanced tracking and predictive technologies available to modern humans, any impacts would be anticipated up to four years out—ample time to summon a tow ship to change the orbit of the incoming object, or to evacuate.
“What’s the surface temperature around the station?” Rade asked.
“One hundred seventy, the same as we detected in orbit,” Harlequin said. “Welcome to the so-called temperate zone.”
“Temperate my ass,” Bender said. “It’s like being invited to a marshmallow roast only to find out we’re the marshmallows.”
“Why am I not surprised that you found a way to say marshmallows and ass in the same sentence?” Manic said.
“Because you can’t get man buns off your mind,” Bender said. “And it was two sentences, bitch.”
The shuttles approached one of the larger domes of the station, which was lit by red and blue lights. Rade could see the twin reflections of the two craft on the curved surface.
“Hmm,” Harlequin said. “The hangar isn’t opening.”
“I thought we received pre-approval for landing?” Rade asked, glancing at Fret.
“We did,” Fret answered.
“Shaw, find out what’s going on,” Rade sent. “Harlequin, begin circling. Instruct the first shuttle to do likewise.”
A few moments later:
“This is odd,” Shaw said from orbit.
“What is it?” Rade asked.
“I’m not getting any response to my docking request,” Shaw answered. “Nor to any other communications I send, for that matter.”
“But Fret was just talking to them an hour ago,” Rade said.
“I was,” Fret agreed.
“Well, they’re not responding now,” Shaw said.
“I’m not sure, but I believe I just received a landing approval signal,” Harlequin said from the pilot seat. “Unfortunately, the hangar still isn’t opening. Wait. There it goes.”
The dome the two Dragonflies were circling parted down the middle, and the twin halves rescinded, revealing a hangar platform housing three more shuttles underneath. These were Russian models: their drooping fuselages and angled wings gave them the appearance of mosquitoes.
“Have a look at those fine Skeeters,” Lui said.
“If it weren’t for the lack of weapon mounts,” TJ said. “I’d almost assume they were military.”
“This base is certainly well-funded,” Tahoe said from the first shuttle.
“Probably why our prey chose it,” Manic said.
“Those are certainly exceptional Russian models,” Fret said.
“Mm-hmm, I love me my Russian models,” Bender said. “And I’m not talking about shuttles.”
In moments the twin halves of the dome had retracted completely, vanishing within a circular track that surrounded the hangar platform.
“Shaw, they’ve opened the doors,” Rade sent.
“Has to be an automated system of some kind,” Shaw said. “Because they’re still not answering comm requests.”
“Could be their main comms have gone down?” Fret said hopefully.
“A bit of a coincidence, isn’t it?” Rade said. “The comms go down just when we arrive...”
“Do you want me to deploy the Hoplites?” Shaw asked.
“No,” Rade told her. “They won’t be of any use to us down here. The mechs won’t fit the tight corridors of the base. You can see the cramped connecting passageways from orbit, can’t you?”
“I see them,” Shaw replied.
“Do you want to land, boss?” Harlequin asked.
Rade made a split decision. “We land. But Tahoe, I want your shuttle down there first. In the interim, keep circling, Harlequin.”
The shuttle containing Tahoe’s team landed.
“It’s clear,” Tahoe said a moment later.
“All right,” Rade said. “Harlequin, take us in.”
Harlequin brought the Dragonfly down, landing beside the first shuttle.
“I’m not detecting our prey,” Surus said. “Either the Phant fled before we arrived, or Corunna’s information was wrong.”
“It wasn’t wrong,” Corunna said.
“Should we abort?” Fret asked.
“No,” Rade said. “We came all the way here. We should at least check why the scientists aren’t answering.” He glanced at Harlequin. “Ramps down. Tahoe, I want two defensive formations around either shuttle.”
Led by the robots, the two fire teams poured from the shuttles, rifles held at the ready. They assumed cigar-shaped formations around either Dragonfly. Rade followed Surus and Corunna out on drag. From the middle of the defensive configuration around his shuttle, he scanned the surrounding Skeeters.
“Fret, try to contact the base personnel now that we’ve landed,” Rade said. “Tahoe, I want every shuttle checked. Confirm they’re empty. TJ and Bender, time to put your hacking skills to use.”
Rade proceeded toward the far side of the hangar, and assumed a position near the airlock hatch that led into the rest of the base. He noticed an empty vehicle stall next to the rim of the retracted dome segment; beyond it, tread marks ran back and forth across the surface. Obviously some sort of ground-based exploratory vehicle was ordinarily parked there, though it was missing at the moment. Perhaps it was the surface exploration vehicle that Rade was using as the pretext for their visit to the base.
“I don’t suppose there’s any way to tell which of these tracks is the most recent?” Rade said.
“No,” Lui replied. “Not within any equipment we have with us, anyway.”
From the circular track that surrounded the hangar, the two halves of the dome began to rise once more.
“That can’t be good,” Lui said.
“Fret, have you heard anything from the base scientists yet?” Rade asked.
“Nope,” Fret said. “I’m guessing automated systems are responsible for closing the doors.”
“What do you want to do, boss?” Lui said.
“Let it close,” Rade said. “If we have to, we’ll shoot our way out.”
The two halves silently joined at the top, sealing the team and their shuttles inside the dome.
Rade spotted white mist emerging from vents near the bulkheads.
“The hangar is pressurizing,” Lui said.
“I figured as much...” Rade said.
“I’ve successfully escalated my privileges,” TJ said from beside one of the Russian shuttles. “This Skeeter is mine. The rest should be just as easy, assuming they’re running the same firmware, and there’s a good chance they are.”
“Open it up,” Rade said. “And send in the combat robots.”
TJ obeyed, and the Skeeter’s ramp lowered. The two Centurions went inside. Rade heard their footfalls transmitted through the rapidly building atmosphere.
“Clear,” Brat said.
“You’re such a brat, bitch,” Bender told it.
“I learned from the best,” Brat replied.
“You’re such a funny AI,” Bender said. “When are you going to hold a comedy run? Can I come?”
TJ opened the remaining shuttles in turn, and Algorithm and Brat swept each one.
“All right,” Rade said. “That’s out of the way. Confirm one thing for me, TJ: you have control of the shuttle ramps, but how about the flight systems themselves? If we need to fly them, can we?”
TJ paused.
Bender answered. “Yep!”
One of the Skeeters powered on, its engines humming to life.
“All right,” Rade said. “Turn it off, Bender. Turn it off!”
“You got it boss,” Bender replied. The engines died.
“Qui
t showing off,” Manic said.
Bender turned toward him. “Okay bitch, listen up. When a bunch of alien baddies attack, and this place is about to fall, and you’re begging me to give you a ride to the stars on this here Skeeter because all the other shuttles have been blown to hell, I’ll remind you of what you said here. And I’ll let you aboard out of the kindness of my heart. Even though you shit your pants in fear and stink up my ride, I’ll do that for you.”
“Awfully kind of you,” Manic said.
“Has the atmosphere stabilized yet?” Rade asked. He glanced at the vents but no longer saw the white mist. That didn’t mean the oxygen and nitrogen molecules had stopped venting inside, however, but rather that the pressure was enough to hide the flow of new air.
“I think so,” Lui said. “The airlock should be ready to open.”
“Okay,” Rade said. “I want the HS3s to go in first.”
TJ ordered four HS3s from each shuttle forward, and the small head-sized drones buzzed into place outside the hatch. The four rotors each drone possessed allowed them to function in atmospheric conditions, but they also carried propellant at extremely high pressures to enable void operations.
“Open the outer hatch,” Rade said.
He waited several seconds, but nothing happened.
Rade glanced at TJ.
“Working on it...” TJ said.
Guess I was a bit premature in prepping the HS3s.
“Got it!” Bender said.
The hatch opened.
Rade glanced at Bender. “We only need one person to hack the doors at a time. Too many people working on it can reduce the available bandwidth, and slow everyone down. I want that person to be TJ for the time being.”
Bender lowered his gaze. “Sorry, boss.”
“Ha!” Manic said. “Told you to quit showing—”
“Manic, enough,” Rade said.
“Sorry,” Manic said.
“TJ, the HS3s...” Rade said.
The four scouts flew into the airlock, which terminated in another door two meters inside.
“Looks like protocol requires the outer hatch to close before I can open the inner,” TJ said.
“Do it,” Rade said.