Orlova walked over to the far side of the room, looking through a window into the intensive care suite, where the Neander who attacked her was lying on a bed, monitors everywhere, a respirator clamped to his mouth. Duquesne looked over at her, disgust on her face.
“Enjoying the show?”
“Not particularly,” she replied. “I didn’t have a choice about this. He tried to kill me.”
“I think he’ll live. I had a couple of the medical technicians over from Hydra yesterday.” Sighing, she said, “You’re lucky I’m a genius. There shouldn’t be any brain damage, though I’ve still got him in a medical coma for his own safety.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean that he’s a lot better off unconscious for the present, Lieutenant. Nothing more or less. Nor do I intend to try and revive him until I am damn sure it will be safe for him.”
“How long?”
“How the hell should I know? I’m not a fortune teller.” Shaking her head, she said, “Maybe a week, maybe ten days. Probably more like the latter. It’s the best I can do for the moment.” Gesturing at the door, she continued, “Any chance of getting rid of the grunt? I don’t think there’s much chance he’s going to escape.”
“None at all. Carpenter’s a stationary target right now. Her attack proved that just being on Alamo isn’t protection enough. I’m not going to take any more risks with her.”
“What about yourself?”
“That’s different,” she said, patting the holster at her side. “I can look after myself.”
Duquense glanced down at it and grimaced, then said, “Look, don’t take this personally, but I really don’t want any more guests in here. You want my professional medical opinion? One of those guards might be good for your health.”
“Can’t spare the manpower, Doctor, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“To hell with that, I just want to cut my workload down.”
The two of them turned as Nelyubov walked into the room, a datapad in his hand and a frown on his face. He looked at Carpenter, shook his head, then made his way over to Orlova.
“Report from the security department. Nine percent of the gathered sensor data is missing, and irretrievable.”
“Damn it,” Orlova said, drawing a harsh look from Duquesne. “Totally lost?”
“I’m afraid so. The last nine hours of data. Including the readouts that Carpenter was looking at when she was attacked. My guess is that our saboteur was trying to stop her seeing something.”
“Sounds reasonable. Any more news on him?”
“Not a thing, and I can’t find any connection between her attacker and our friend in there,” he gestured at the Neander, “other than a couple of trips down to the planet. Which doesn’t mean a damn thing, of course, if they were in league together. Worked down on the planet for most of his time, vehicle technician, but transferred up to the station a couple of weeks ago.”
“At his request?”
He nodded, and said, “Apparently it was routine enough that no-one asked any questions. Price doesn’t know the guy, just a face on a file.”
“Then there’s only one answer. We’ve got to take another look at the surface.”
“Fine, but we’ll have to break orbit to do it in less than five days.”
Shaking her head, she said, “Not an option. I don’t want to leave our current position in the shelter of the defense satellites. Besides, that would make it clear that we were on to them.”
“They’ll expect us to work this out soon enough, surely.”
“Probably, but...we’ll take a shuttle. Have the duty pilot meet me at the hangar bay.”
“Want me to come?”
“With the Major over on the station and Caine still locked in her quarters, someone’s got to assume command while I’m off doing the crazy stuff.”
Shaking his head, he replied, “To think at one point I actually wanted promotion. Fine, I’ll keep an eye on the store for you.”
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “One more thing. I don’t want anyone to know what we are doing. File a flight plan for a trip to the station. I’ll set up the course myself when I get down to the shuttle bay.”
“I take it that means you don’t plan to tell the Major?”
“This needs doing now, and I daren’t risk the communicator.”
A grin spreading across his face, he replied, “That, and you suspect that he’ll say no.”
“Now, Lieutenant, are you suggesting that I would attempt an action in the knowledge that permission would be denied by my commanding officer should I request it?”
“In a word, yes.”
Duquesne looked at the two of them, and said, “You are both out of your minds. I hope you know that.”
“Know it? I depend on it,” Orlova said. “Let me know if the Neander’s condition changes.”
“Sure, if he starts to deteriorate I’ll have plenty of time to run about calling people,” she replied. “Or do you have some mystical healing powers I don’t know about?”
“Just keep me informed, Doctor. And that guard is for his protection as much as Carpenter’s. Some of his friends might prefer that he didn’t talk.” She turned and walked out of the room, heading for the elevator, and tapped for the hangar deck. The ride was surprisingly rapid, for once, and the deck chief waved her over to a waiting shuttle.
“Take Three, she’s just been serviced. The pilot will be along shortly.” She frowned, then said, “You sure you need one?”
“Quite sure, Chief. Thanks.”
She stepped on board, climbing into the cockpit and programming a course to follow the missing sensor pass, isolating it from Alamo’s systems to ensure that no-one could see what she was doing. Trying to optimize the path for least-time was a harder job than she had thought, and the figure stepping behind her caught her by surprise.
“I thought I was flying, Lieutenant,” Bradley said.
Orlova turned, and Spaceman Bradley was standing in front of her, wearing a flight suit, moving past her to slide into the pilot’s seat.
“You are, but I had to get everything set up for you.”
She glanced at the navicomputer, and said, “I thought we were just hopping over to the station.”
“That’s the cover story. I’m following a few leads. I’ll handle the sensors from the co-pilot’s seat if you don’t mind the company.”
“It’s your charter.”
As Orlova climbed into her seat, she said, “I thought you were still in the middle of bridge training?”
“Actually, I finished this morning. Computer gave me a pass grade. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”
“I’m way behind on my paperwork, but that’s good news. Steele can certainly use the help, you can join Alpha Shift next watch. Excited to go?”
She shrugged, and said, “It’s a job.”
“It’s a commission if you do a good one,” Orlova replied, frowning. “Cooper, right?”
“Damn bastard got under my skin,” she replied. “It was just a...but we were beginning to talk about more, and…,” she stopped, then said. “I’m fine.”
Shaking her head, Orlova said, “No, you aren’t. But you will be, in time.”
Looking up, Bradley nodded, and said, “I know, and I’m really fine. Don’t worry, I’m not pulling a Caine and plotting your doom. I know that you did what you had to do. It just hurts like hell.”
“Pulling a Caine?”
With a thin smile, she said, “The lower decks are already bringing that into the shipboard slang. You know how it goes when something like that gets started.”
Sighing, she said, “Pass the word that I want it to stop, and now. I’m serious about this; that had better be the last time the expression is used in my presence.”
Bradley laughed, and at
Orlova’s scowl, explained, “I’m sorry, but you really are becoming an Exec, aren’t you. It’s just a little...incongruous.”
This is strictly temporary, as far as I’m concerned. I’m trying not to get too used to the idea.”
“Word is that if the Major gets to take Alamo out again, you’d have the job permanently.”
“I'd think the Admiralty would have more sense. Come on, let’s get going.”
Bradley tapped a control, and the shuttle lowered away through the elevator airlock. Orlova kept an eye on the system status readings, half-expecting some sort of problem, but every indicator remained resolutely green. The shuttle spun around, away from the station, and the engines fired, kicking them into Orlova’s carefully planned trajectory.
“I’m surprised no-one’s complaining that we’ve violated our flight plan,” Bradley said, “This is a hell of a course you’ve put us on. We’ll be dipping into the atmosphere twice. Are we in that much of a hurry?”
“Is it going to be a problem?”
Shaking her head, she replied, “No, I can fly this. Not bad for a last flight.”
“Last flight?”
Glancing at Orlova for a second, she said, “I’m leaving the service when we get back. I’ll probably stay in the reserves, but...I want out.”
“Cooper.”
She sighed, and said, “I told you that we’d talked? We were thinking about setting up a shuttle and courier service, out in the Saturnian sub-system. I know the area pretty well, and there’s some good money there for someone who really knows those moons. With Cooper probably heading out…”
“He wanted to stay in.”
Smiling, she said, “On his own terms, not someone else’s. And I’d...I’d figured I’d go with him. I’ve been in uniform for seven years. That’s long enough, I think.” Looking at Orlova again, she said, “You don’t agree.”
It’s your life. But with Cooper dead…”
Bradley took a deep breath, and said, “I’ve got to get over that, but Alamo’s full of bad memories. I don’t think I’ll be the only one leaving.”
“It’ll be a pity.”
“If you want someone else for the bridge…”
Shaking her head, she replied, “No, I stand by my call that you are the best choice for the job. Getting you a reserve commission shouldn’t be any problem, it’ll give you a bit more money while you are setting yourself up.”
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “Just be sure to hire me any time you are out at Titan.”
“It’s a date,” Orlova replied, reaching forward. “We’re coming into the trajectory now. All sensors to full.”
“First atmospheric pass. This could be fun.”
Bradley fired the engines, keeping their speed up as she guided the shuttle into an atmospheric skip. The sensors started to gather data, filling the gaps in the high-resolution map of the surface, Orlova watching the feed as it came in, waiting for any alerts. The pressure pushed her back into her couch as Bradley ramped up the acceleration. The shuttle’s nose dipped down, giving a full view of the planet, unnerving for a moment before Bradley pulled it back up and the shuttle raced out of the atmosphere.
“How are we doing?” she said.
“More than half the data is in, but I haven’t found anything yet. You set up to finish the run?”
“Not a problem. What exactly is it that we’re looking for?”
“I don’t know, but I will know when I see it.”
“Wonderful. This sounds like an extremely well thought-out mission.”
“Nothing but the best.”
The shuttle soared over the planet, just above the atmosphere, drifting in a long curve down towards the southern polar area, an elusive spot to track. Thin traces of white draped themselves across the desert in this region, more water than on the entire rest of the planet slowly melting away.
While they descended down towards their second pass, Orlova went over the sensor data again. There were a few anomalies in the readings, but nothing that stood out to her. Really, she needed Carpenter here to analyze the data. As she was pushed back in her chair again, though, something leapt out at her almost immediately.
“Got something, and it’s pretty big!” she said. “Close to the south pole, looks like some sort of complex. Good match for the one we spotted earlier.” Focusing on the area, she smiled, “Debris in close proximity, looks like some sort of alloy. I think we’ve hit the jackpot.”
“Great,” Bradley replied. “Should we head back to Alamo now?”
Shaking her head, Orlova said, “Not a chance. I want a closer look at that site. Can you take us down lower?”
“Deep into the atmosphere?” she glanced across at her instruments, and nodded, “I can give you one low pass, then we’ll have to burn back to Alamo. We’ve just about got the fuel.”
“Good. Set it up, and I’ll take a look at the instruments.”
Glancing across, Bradley said, “Just in case this goes wrong…”
“Got you.” Pulling out a microphone, she said, “Orlova to Nelyubov. Come in.”
“I’m here,” the voice crackled. “You’re putting on quite a show.”
“It’s going to get a lot better yet. I’m sending you some sensor data, I want it locked down good and safe. We’re making a second pass to get a closer look. Have a shuttle standing by to pick us up; we might be short on fuel after we get back up into orbit.”
“Wouldn’t a surface party make more sense?”
“Do you think it would have a hope in hell of being approved?”
There was a pause before the reply came, “Probably not.”
“We’re ready, Lieutenant,” Bradley said.
The shuttle dipped again, curving around, using the upper atmosphere to slew its trajectory and spilling speed, falling down towards the planet. The heat shield started to glow dull red as they homed in on their target, Orlova’s attention closely focused on the sensor feeds as they began to register. Layers and layers of data gathered in the systems for later analysis, but then an alarm began to sound.
“Radiological alarm? What the hell?” Bradley said, nursing the shuttle through the curve. They were now almost low enough that Orlova make out small features on the ground, out of the worst of the reentry cycle. Her face then began to pale as realization hit her.
“Get us the hell out of here, right now!” she yelled, and the pilot hurried to comply.
“What’s wrong?”
“I hope I’m just panicking,” Orlova began, but she was interrupted by a flash from the planet below, a noise like thunder rattling through the atmosphere, and the viewscreen instantly dimming to safe levels.
“Shuttle!” the communicator anxiously yelled as a mushroom cloud began to rise from the surface of the planet, clouds of dust whipping around as Bradley hurriedly gained as much altitude as she could.
“We saw it, Frank! We’re right in the middle of it!”
“Stand by for the shockwave,” Bradley said, her hands locked down on the controls as she nursed every ounce of acceleration from the engines, roaring away from the ever growing cloud.
“Getting hot outside,” Orlova said. “Shouldn’t affect us inside, though.”
“Hold on!” Bradley said as the shuttle began to tumble, the propagating blast wave reaching out and throwing them aside, the engines struggling as she fought to maintain the altitude. Orlova glanced across, then out of the window, looking down at the ever-rising cloud, and the black desolation beneath.
Gradually, the shuttle began to settle back down into an ascent trajectory, high enough in the atmosphere to escape the worst of the blast. Bradley settled down in her couch as they crested into orbit, and shook her head.
“That was a hell of a ride.”
“I don’t think there were any Neander in that region, thank God.” S
he looked at the sensor display, and said, “Well, whatever we’ve got is all we’re going to get. Someone’s going to a hell of a lot of trouble to hide something.”
“I’d say they’d been successful.”
“Yeah,” Orlova said, looking down at the planet, an ugly scar appearing on the surface as the cloud slowly began to disperse. Another piece of history lost forever.
Chapter Seventeen
Cooper, alone in the darkened mess, pushed some unappealing, gray food around his plate, leaving a dull brown trail behind it, trying and failing to work up the enthusiasm to finish his belated dinner. It was way past midnight, ship’s time, only a skeleton crew currently running the ship, but retreating back to his quarters didn’t appeal. It was something of a relief when he saw a familiar figure in the doorway, pushing towards his table, though he initially didn’t want to admit it.
“Up late, Cooper,” Cantrell said, sitting down opposite him.
“I thought I’d eat in private.”
“Don’t give me that crap,” she replied. “You were practically begging for someone to disturb you. Admit it.”
“Maybe.” He poked a piece of gray meat, holding it up in front of him, “I wouldn’t mind so much if it tasted bad, smelled terrible. It doesn’t seem to be anything at all. It simply exists.”
“People don’t go into space for the cuisine. What’s bothering you? We’ll be back at Hydra Station in eight days. Tomorrow we get to play chicken with Dauntless again in another out-of-the-way, nowhere system. What could be wrong with that?”
“While you are all having your fun, I’ll be sitting at the back of the bridge again.” He took a deep breath, and said, “I feel as if I am just marking time, walking in place, waiting for this cruise to be over. I’ve done my job, and...it’ll be more of the same on Alamo, won’t it.”
Shaking her head, she said, “This isn’t you. I’ve never seen you quite so sorry for yourself as you have been on this journey.”
Smiling, he said, “My life got torn apart. Try having everything you’ve known and worked for, dreamed of, taken away. Then see what happens.”
Battlecruiser Alamo: The First Duty Page 16