by Doug Hoffman
Congregating on the level where JT and the Gunny were waiting, Bobby inquired about plans for going forward. “You've been on site longer than we have, JT, how do you suggest we proceed?”
“Now that 2nd Squad is here I say we recon more of this puzzle palace. Didn't want to head to lower levels with the possibility of hostiles in our rear, but now we can send one squad up and the other down. What do you think, Gunny?”
“Works for me. Send 2nd Squad up to give the cosmic condo a closer look, and to find out what's above it. The rest of us can take the magic light elevator down below.”
“You feel comfortable using the local transportation mechanism?” Mizuki asked.
“Yeah, we went back over the RF recordings while you were in transit. We found our little yellow friend sent out coded signals that caused the elevator to activate in either an upward or downward direction. He also had a signal that dumped him off at a desired level. Davis! Give the officers a demonstration.”
“Aye, aye, Gunny.”
The party moved to the edge of the central shaft as a softly glowing column of light sprang into existence. Davis stepped into the light and drifted smoothly up to the next level, where he stepped off gracefully—they had, indeed, been practicing. The faint light shining upward to the next platform changed color from red to blue. Shortly, Davis floated back down and rejoined his companions.
“The color is an indicator of the direction of the gravity field?”
“Yes, Dr. Ogawa. Davis here figured out what the colors mean.”
“Doppler effect, or more accurately a representation of the Doppler effect,” Mizuki stated. “Red shift going away, blue shift approaching.”
JT nodded. “I should have know that an astrophysicist would see the answer right off. I'm still embarrassed that Davis figured it out first.”
Grits elbowed Brains and on suit-to-suit quipped, “See, I told you she was smart.”
“Yeah, but I sussed it out before the Lieutenant. Now shut up, or we'll miss something.” Grits complied as the officers continued their planning.
“What about a holding force on the platform?” Bobby asked.
“There are three crewmen in each shuttle who are armed, and the shuttles themselves mount railguns and X-ray lasers. Just to be safe we can have each shuttle send a battle bot to guard the central shaft and monitor anything approaching.”
“I'll defer to you two in the tactics department,” Bobby said to JT and the Gunny, “but I'd feel better if we send a couple of recon drones from the shuttles ahead—one up, one down—just in case there is something laying in wait.”
“Yes, Sir,” JT replied. “Hitch, Jacobs, did you copy the request for recon drones?”
“Aye, Lieutenant,” replied Hitch from shuttle one.
“Launching drones now,” added Jacobs from shuttle two.
A half minute later one of the basketball sized robots flew silently past the assemblage of Marines and disappeared down the central shaft. Called clownbots because the arrangement of cameras and sensors on their forward end resembled a clown's face, the large recon drones from the shuttles were more capable than the smaller units carried by the Marines.
On suit-to-suit, Walker said, “man, I just love it when Captain Kirk uses the Force to control the Tardis.”
“You are totally barmy, Yank,” Davis replied.
“Are we good to go, Commander?” JT asked Bobby.
“Let's get this show on the road.”
JT turned to the Gunny and, raising his left arm, made a circular motion with his raised index finger, the hand signal to move out.
“Listen up, Marines! Sgt Aurora, take 2nd squad and the engineers and do a reconnaissance of the structure above this one. Look for any signs of habitation and make note of any interesting alien tech. Keep going until you run out of building or make contact.”
“Aye, aye, Gunny,” came the bear's immediate reply.
“1st Squad, saddle up. We will descend to the structure below and work our way down from there. Walker, Davis, since you are our local transportation experts, take point. Move out.”
* * * * *
Ten minutes later, Walker and Davis were drifting downward, back to back, watching for trouble. As they descended they conversed on suit-to-suit.
“We ain't never going to live down jumping off the building without a net, Bubba.”
“That was all your fault, not mine. I managed to get off on the right floor.” Walker looked around at the floors passing by. Most were thick with vegetation, plants of all shapes and sizes. They came in many colors—red, purple, yellow and green. Some were short and curly, some tall with long leafy fronds, and others resembling prairie grass. Other rows were barren, ranks of empty planters above which harsh grow lamps glared in vain. “This looks like some kind of food production facility, a factory farm.”
“Don't look like any farm I ever seen back in Alabama.”
“They were building something like this in the Netherlands before things went to hell. Tiered levels growing plants, even pigs.”
“That's the Dutch for ya, they think shoes should be made of wood and that living below sea level is a keen idea.”
Davis just grunted.
“I guess you really are smart, figuring out that red shift stuff. Maybe you deserve to be called Brains.”
“Well thank you very much, Grits. What the hell is a grit anyway?”
“It's a traditional southern food made from ground corn. And it's grits not grit; grits is singular.”
“What?”
“You say the grits is good, not the grits are good. Get that wrong and they'll peg you for a Yankee for sure.”
“I'm a Brit, you're the Yank.”
“Back in the good ol' U.S. of A. southerners were Rebels, northerners were Yankees, and you would have been a damned foreigner.”
“Glad we got that straightened out, Yank.”
“Hey, at least I got to know Keti better.”
“Yeah, mate. She thinks you're a bleedin' tosser who's dumb enough to step off a thousand story building without a rope.”
“An introduction is an introduction, Bubba.”
As they dropped, neither noticed the red-orange eyes observing them from concealment in the passing foliage.
Station Trader's Bower
Deep within the lower levels of the spire was the bower of Faooshda-rik-tik-ta, the Station Trader and leader of the Kieshnar-rak-kat-tra. In the sibilant speech of the creatures' their name meant “Scavengers of Wealth,” but generally they were simply known as “traders.”
A reflection of the nocturnal origins of his species, the inside the Trader's bower was dimly lit, illumination provided mostly by bioluminescent plants. Rich rugs and tapestries adorned the floors and walls while hanging incense burners helped mask the natural musk of the traders—theirs was a smell even a skunk would find unpleasant. The Station Trader was receiving a verbal report from one of his many underlings scattered about the Starflake.
“Report, Shanakta-fek. What have you learned about these newcomers?”
“A thousand pardons, Trader, but I only saw them for a moment as they moved down a transport beam headed for lower levels. They are large, much larger than we are, and covered in what looks like gray metal armor.”
“They are armed?”
“Yes, Trader. The devices they had strapped to their forearms could serve no other purpose. The two I saw stayed back to back and swept their surroundings with their weapons continuously.”
“Warriors then.”
“That would seem so from their appearance, but then there was the whooboo.”
“What whooboo?”
“The whooboo that ascend the shaft to the unoccupied area where the aliens landed. Evidently the aliens damaged some mechanism or other that attracted the attention of the maintenance drudge.”
“If I have to keep guessing at what you've seen I will have you demoted to apprentice trader and sent to the storerooms! What about the dr
udge?”
“It came back down alive.”
“I see. This could prove interesting.” The Station Trader cogitated on the implications of that for a moment. To a Kieshnar-rak-kat-tra interesting was not a positive term—interesting meant disruption and disruption was generally bad for business. “So they left the whooboo come and go without killing it. I wonder how aggressive these new 'warriors' of yours are.”
“Certainly no pack of Karf would have allowed a whooboo to pass unmolested. They would have beat it just on general principles.”
“Speaking of the skinny gray vermin, are they aware of the newcomers' presence yet?”
“I cannot say, Trader. I saw no sign of the Karf or any of their minions, but that doesn't mean they have not observed the aliens by remote cameras or other sensors.”
“We must bide our time until the newcomers and the Karf cross paths. They will either come to some accommodation or start a fight, probably the latter. Keep your tail low and your eyes open, we need to be nimble and quick, there may yet be an opportunity for trade here.”
“By your leave, Station Trader.”
2nd Squad, The Cosmic Condo
The Marines of 2nd Squad were nearing the top of what had been dubbed the cosmic condominium. As they ascended the apartments became fewer, larger, and more lavishly appointed. Something that did not escape the notice of the Marines themselves.
“Man, will you look at this place. It could be the crib of a Miami drug lord.”
“Or a Hollywood madam.”
“Or even worse, a Wall Street banker.”
“Since there isn't a New York, or Hollywood, or Miami anymore you jokers need to update your superlatives,” said Cpl. Kwan. The grunts were right, the apartment held several sunken conversation pits, sweeping ramps leading to an overhanging balcony, curved walls adorned with abstract paintings, and a number of large crystalline chandeliers that would have done Chihuly proud. The chandeliers were lit from within and hung in midair with no visible support.
“Stay frosty people, and keep the chatter off the squad frequency.” Over suit-to-suit Sergeant Aurora chuckled. “Why do humans do that, talk incessantly?”
“Because they are nervous, Sarge,” Kato replied, standing beside her. “You know how us monkeys love to chatter.”
“Oh?” The monkey reference caught the polar bear off guard.
“I've been around bears enough to know what most of you think of most of us. No big.”
“It doesn't bother you that we bears call you monkeys behind your backs?”
“Not really. Hell, we all have our prejudices—man, bear, and alien. Better to have them out in the open so we can all laugh at them. When you hide your prejudices, hold them inside, that's when they can turn toxic.”
“Never thought of it that way. You're pretty observant for a primate, Kato.”
“Hey Sarge, I got movement!” called PFC Haddad.
The Squad shifted positions, half facing outward, half covering the possible threat Haddad spotted. Sliding across the floor was a half meter in diameter disk shaped creature with a fringe of short tentacles. It moved silently to one of the low upholstered benches and began working its way around the seat's base. As it moved it pivoted back and forth, sweeping with its tentacles.
“What is it?”
“Damned if I know, Rico,” replied Kato, moving to get a closer look at the creature. “But it seems to be alive, not some kind of machine or cyborg.”
“You think it's dangerous?” Asked Aurora, edging around to cut off the creature's escape.
“It's acting like some kind of alien Roomba,” Haddad observed. “Like it's cleaning around the furniture.”
“Could be, all these apartments seem too clean to be uninhabited.” That thought had been nagging at Kato's mind for some time now. “Having built in cleaning staff would explain why things are so clean, not even a layer of dust on the floor.”
“Great,” Sgt. Aurora snorted. “We've discovered an autonomous alien vacuum cleaner. Haddad, you found it so keep an eye on it. Everyone else fan out and finish searching this place.”
Karf Habitat, Adjacent Spire
“Who are these creatures that dare to invade our station!” The current dominant Karf was livid at the discovery of the exploring Earthlings, currently making their way down the major spire adjacent to the Karf habitation space.
“What is your plan to find out, or is your leadership inadequate?” said one of the head Karf's main rivals. The Karf had no permanent leadership, they constantly struggled among themselves each trying to raise their individual status.
“Dispatch a team to kidnap one or more of these interlopers. We will then interrogate them and find out their intentions, how many of them there are and how well they are armed.”
“It would be better to strike them now, while they don't suspect our presence. Take them by surprise and wipe them out, or enslave them,” said another rival.
“You are as rash as you are foolish! We have no idea of the invaders' capabilities, we must gather intelligence first.”
“The monitors show them to be vigilant, how do you propose to abduct one of them from the midst of their formation?”
“They come in different sizes, we will attempt to lure one of the small ones into a space that would be inconvenient for the larger ones.”
“And you expect the others to just stand by as we carry off one of their host? Your plan is imbecilic! Dumber than Hoon dung.”
“It is you who are the imbecile, dung eater. To cover the abduction we will stage a diversion—an attack to help ascertain their offensive capabilities.”
The leader's rival sneered. Zhe knew that zhe had been out maneuvered by the current head Karf. Sensing its advantage, the leader pressed home its argument.
“We will use a splagg, that should provide sufficient distraction while we make off with one of the aliens' number. Make it so, you worthless laggards!”
With grumbled insults the Karf moved off to implement the Leader's plan. They had to admit it was a solid plan of action. No matter, each Karf thought, I could have come up with a better plan. That was just the Karf way, the others would go along with the plan until an opportunity for self-advancement presented itself.
Chapter 16
1st Squad, The Greenhouse
Nearing the bottom of the agricultural section a floor appeared that contained unplanted open space and what looked like a number of storerooms. The Gunny ordered the squad to exit the elevator so they could take stock of their position and plan their next move. As the rest of the squad spread out to check the storage rooms, the Gunny and the officers held a meeting by some large flowering plants.
“It looks like the next level down is less... bucolic than the section we've been descending through,” JT commented to the assembled leadership. “Scans from the recon drone show the next area is laid out more like a residential or commercial area, with multiple levels linked by ramps and more of these gravity elevator shafts.”
On their holographic helmet displays a three dimensional mock up of the next area's layout appeared. It showed a many leveled interior space surrounded by overlapping balconies linked by ramps, spiral staircases, and multi-hued, glowing light columns.
“I think we should spread out and utilize more elevators, that way we can put more boots on the ground simultaneously,” the Gunny said. Up to this point the expedition had been strung out along one shaft, descending a pair of Marines at a time. All the way down she had been worried about a possible ambush.
“That certainly makes sense, Gunny,” Bobby agreed, inspecting the holographic model. “It looks like there are several elevators on the far side of the central opening that would put passengers off on that large curving balcony.”
“Yeah, we could drop half the squad onto that area, and then the rest of us could land on what looks like the main area twenty meters below it.” The Gunny was already thinking about who to assign what positions in the deployment.
“They could spread out along the upper level and give the rest of the squad cover from above.” JT added, nodding in agreement.
While JT, Bobby, and the Gunny were absorbed by mission planning, Mizuki walked over to one of the tall flowering plants. They looked like an overgrown version of lilies, with graceful white trumpets rising amongst dark green leaves. Examining the flowers she noticed movement a few rows over, movement not attributable to any of the expedition members.
“Do not turn around or react,” she called on the command frequency, “but there is something lurking in the foliage two rows to my left.”
“How big a something, Dr. Ogawa?” asked JT, sinking to one knee and subtly repositioning his assault weapon while pretending to still be conversing with the other two leaders. “We've got a clear field of fire.”
“My IR sensors show only one creature, please do not shoot it JT. After all, we are supposed to make contact with the locals if we can.”
“Could it be a wild animal or one of those maintenance trolls? What do you propose we do?”
“I see only one way to find out. I am going to edge around the plant in front of me until I am hidden behind it. Then I will use my suit's active camouflage mode and quietly circle around behind the creature. When I am in position I will flush it out into the open.”
“Be careful, Dr. Ogawa. You will be in our line of fire if you get behind the target.”
“I am trying to keep it from becoming a target, Gunny. It is hard to make new friends through a hail of railgun flechettes.”
Bobby was the ranking officer so it was his call, but he had learned that trying to keep his wife out of danger was like trying to keep an inquisitive child from trying new things.
“OK, do it, but let us know when you are in position.”