“I know, I was watching it on the HV.” Takamura looked embarrassed.
“Christ! How much of it went out on the network?” In the pitch of the excitement, Phineas had forgotten that the event was being beamed back to Earth.
Takamura shook his head. “Plenty, I’m afraid. It was still being broadcast right up until the grandstands collapsed. That’s when I headed down here with my staff. “
“This is looking worse all the time,” Phineas said, thinking aloud.
“Here come some more,” someone cried.
“Oh, Phineas, look!” Kate pointed down toward the bottom of the steps.
A large group of survivors on the lower third of the steps were being pursued by a smaller pack of warrior-class Saurians. They were carrying their crossbowlike weapons and quivers of biological squaves—kind of living arrows which burrowed into you once they struck.
“Give them some cover,” Takamura cried, raising his rifle and taking aim on the Saurian pack.
The group of scientists in white coveralls began firing simultaneously, releasing a volley of shells into the first rank of the warriors, who had just gained the bottom steps. The bullets ripped through their tough hides, throwing them back into their brothers, who seemed to become more enraged by the counterattack. Some of the Saurians, succumbing to the scent and sight of blood, quit the chase, falling upon the carcasses of their fallen comrades, but others filled the ranks and continued up the steps after the fleeing humans. Takamura’s men fired almost continuously into the pack, bringing them down with surprising accuracy and efficiency.
“Come on, Colonel,” Kate Ennis cried, breaking Phineas out of his trancelike admiration of the IASA scientists. “I need your help.”
Looking down, he saw Kate on the steps, helping some of the survivors up to the sanctuary of the landing. Phineas stepped into action and started helping the exhausted, terror-filled staffers up the final steps. Below them he could see the temple steps dotted with many pockets of survivors, all scrambling as fast as they could up to the point of relative safety. He was glad to see that so many had followed his course and were going to make it. He estimated perhaps seventy-five people were now on the steps.
As Phineas began helping people up to the top, Mishima Takamura moved to his side. “Have you seen Dr. Jakes?” he cried above the growing noise.
“No, wasn’t he here with your people?” Phineas was shocked to think that Jakes might not be safe.
“He went down to the grandstands to see the show. Damn!” Takamura said. “Where the hell is he?”
Phineas moved back up to the top with Mishima. “Do you have a man with a radio down here?”
Takamura nodded. “Back by the entrance to the temple. Dr. Horton is carrying it.”
Taking Kate Ennis by the hand, Phineas guided her up and across the temple landing toward the entrance to the large stone edifice. He saw an older woman in a faded, pale blue jumpsuit crouched down by the temple entrance. She held a small comm unit.
“Excuse me—Dr. Horton?” Phineas said. “I’m Colonel Kemp.”
“I know who you are, Colonel,” the woman said sharply. “You’re the one responsible for this spectacle, isn’t that right?”
A bolt of anger flashed through him, but he knew that this was not the time or place to get into a pitched verbal battle. The bitch had a lot of nerve, though. He had to give her that.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Doctor, but I’ve got a job to do right now. I’m going to need to use that comm unit.” Phineas expected a wise-ass remark, but the woman merely handed him the communications gear and looked away.
Flipping through the channels, Kemp signaled tactical base headquarters.
“Tactical base. Come in, please,” said an unfamiliar voice.
“This is Colonel Kemp. Is Coopersmith there?”
“Just a second, Colonel.”
There was a very short pause until Ian’s voice shot crisply from the tiny speaker grid. “Phineas, is that you? Are you all right? Where are you?”
Kemp reported his position and the state of affairs.
Even as he spoke, more survivors were being pulled over the last step. “ ... But we need some help. What happened to your ’thopters? Have you heard from Mikaela? Is she okay?”
“Mikaela’s back at the PSC. She’s a little shaky, but she’s all right. I’ve ordered the ’thopter back here for refueling and some sharpshooters. It should be off the ground in another minute or two.”
“What about the other ’thopter? I saw what happened to the last one down below.” Phineas swallowed hard, trying to listen to Ian’s voice above the growing noise.
“Bad luck with that one, too,” said Coopersmith, who detailed the plight of the cargo ’thopter that had crashed in the Saurian ruins.
“We’re going to have to send some people out there to get them,” Phineas said.
“First things first, Colonel. I’ve only got one aircraft left, and I was figuring to get it back to Hakarrh ASAP.”
“What about Copernicus? Have you heard anything from them?”
Ian chuckled. “Are you joking? Christ, Phineas, they’re hopping bloody mad.”
“I don’t give a shit if they’re mad,” cried Phineas. “I just want to know if they’re sending us any fucking help.”
“Affirmative, Colonel. Two shuttles full of troops are on the way to the main docking bay. ETA within the next ten minutes.”
“Any word from Becky?” Kemp asked the question reluctantly, considering to whom he was forced to ask it. But it was information he wanted to know.
“Yes, she’s at the PSC. No problems. That ‘paley’ camp seems like the best place to be right about now, I’d say.”
“Did you get a passenger list from the first cargo ’thopter?” Kemp asked.
“Which one? The one that made it back here once, or the one that put down in the ruins?”
“Both, actually,” Phineas said. “I’m looking for Bob Jakes.”
There was a short pause. “Okay, here we go. I’ve got it on the screen now. Let’s see. Okay, Jakes was on Cargo Two, which is now on a sightseeing mission in the ruins.”
“Did he make it? Is he all right?”
“As far as I know,” Ian said. “They’ve got some minor injuries up there, but nothing life-threatening. “ Phineas exhaled slowly. It was good to know that the old bastard was okay. “How safe is that bunch in the ruins, Ian?”
“Reasonably so. I’ve radioed them some basic survival information, and I think they’ll be all right till we can get to them.”
“Good. We’re getting things under control down here at the temple, and we should be going into the crew section fairly soon. I’d like to coordinate the rescue operations once I get up to the lab’s comm room. We’ve got some real messes to clean up.”
Coopersmith chuckled ironically. “Yes, I’d say so. Let’s hope we can patch things up with the Saurians. What the hell set them off?”
“I haven’t the foggiest,” said Phineas. “Damndest thing I ever saw. Poor Neville. A bad way to go, eh?”
Ian chuckled again, with some bitterness, this time. “Are there any good ones?”
“All right,” Phineas said. “I’m going to be stationing myself in the alien crew section. In the lab. I should be there shortly, so keep me posted with any new developments. Kemp out.”
“Tactical base out.”
Switching off the comm unit, Phineas gave it back to Dr. Horton, who accepted it without a word or a second glance. He turned to Kate and motioned her to accompany him.
Phineas caught Takamura’s attention and drew close to him.
“Yes, Colonel?”
“Dr. Jakes is all right,” he said, explaining the emergency landing of the cargo ’thopter.
Takamura seemed relieved. “I am so glad, Colonel. Bob Jak
es is like a father to me.”
“Yes, I know. Grand old men have a habit of being like that, don’t they?” Phineas smiled and tapped Mishima on the shoulder. He had expected the young scientist to smile at his little joke, but the man continued to look at him rather stonily.
“Is there something wrong, Doctor?” Phineas wanted to know what the problem might be.
“Oh no, of course not, Colonel. Everything’s just fine, can’t you tell?” Takamura grimaced.
“If I insulted you or Jakes, I’m sorry, Doctor. I assure you I wasn’t trying to be flippant.”
Takamura shook his head slowly, as though surprised at Kemp’s naiveté. “Colonel, it’s like this—it’s been a long day, and I’m tired. I really don’t feel like getting into it right now. Maybe some other time, all right?”
Takamura turned to walk away, and Kemp grabbed his arm, turning him back in a hurry. “Wait a second! I’d like to know what’s going on right now, Doctor.”
Takamura looked at him with a sly grin. He nodded calmly and with confidence. “It’s pretty simple, really, Colonel. I just think this whole mess could have been avoided if you’d read those reports I prepared, or if you’d listened to Dr. Jakes.”
“You don’t understand,” Phineas said. “There were other factors to be considered.”
“Yeah, I know. Real big ones, like money and ego, right, Colonel?”
The words stung Phineas like a slap in the face. He felt doubly embarrassed because Kate Ennis was witness to the ugly scene. It was better to cut things off here, before they grew even worse.
“That was uncalled for, Doctor. I think we’d better take this up at another time.”
Takamura performed a mock bow of deference. “Very well, Colonel, although I’m certain that time will not serve to mitigate the truth.”
Phineas turned away from the man and headed for the entrance to the alien crew section. The majority of the survivors had been pulled over the last step, and the pursuing mob of Saurians had been successfully held off. The rescue operation was just about over. There were other pockets of survivors already crowding through the temple entrance, and Phineas felt comfort in the anonymity of the large group.
“Don’t pay attention to that,” Kate said. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Don’t be so sure about that.” Phineas was unable to look her in the eye.
”I think you’re jumping to conclusions just because of one person’s emotional outburst.”
Kemp laughed lightly. “Takamura didn’t sound very emotional to me.” He forced a smile to his lips. “Besides, I thought you women were such champions of the emotional outburst.”
“Oh, that’s very clever, Colonel. I thought I was on your side.”
Phineas sighed. “You are, Kate, and I’m sorry.” He led her down several metallic corridors to a set of elevators, reaching to key in the correct alien codes on a touchpad. “And the way things are shaping up, it looks like I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER Svetlana Muranova took the lunar shuttlecraft Georgian out of autopilot mode. Through the front viewing port, she could see the expanse of the Dragonstar ahead of her position like a small planet. Every time she drew close to the alien vessel, she was again reminded of how damnably gigantic it really was. She mentioned this to her co-pilot, Lieutenant Sergei Andruschenko as they prepared for close approach.
“It is incredible,” said Sergei, a small-boned, pale-skinned man who looked more like a poet than a shuttle pilot. “I’d love to see what is going on in there right now.”
“Have you ever been inside?” Svetlana asked, pushing a strand of dirty-blond hair away from her ice-blue eyes.
“Me?” Sergei laughed. “Why would they let a simple pilot like me inside? No, but I would give anything to see those dinosaurs firsthand, wouldn’t you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. After seeing what happened to that old man, I’m not sure about exactly what I’d like to do.”
Sergei grinned knowingly. “True, my comrade. So very true. I hear that Kemp’s ass will be in a crack for this one.”
“And we should be surprised? I mean, look at the mess, Sasha. On worldwide holo yet.”
Svetlana’s headphones beeped, and she keyed in the incoming call. “Georgian, we copy.”
“Greetings, Lana, this your backyard cowboy aboard the San Diego.” The voice with the Oklahoma drawl boomed in her ears, and she smiled in spite of the break in protocol.
“I copy, Lieutenant Jack Colter,” Svetlana said, conjuring up an image of Lieutenant Colter in his command cabin wearing his cowboy hat. Colter was probably the most flamboyant shuttle pilot in her wing, and probably the most popular, too. Everyone seemed to like his easygoing, carefree manner. “I assume you are ready to discuss close-approach coordinates?”
“You betcha, honey! Shall I race you to the dockin’ bay, or do you want to do this in a more orderly fashion?” Colter laughed heartily.
There was another series of beeps in Svetlana’s headphones as Copernicus Base intervened. “San Diego, this Dr. Kolenkhov at Copernicus. Since we are in the middle of a very serious operation, I would suggest that you remove the bullshit from your communications.”
Jack Colter cleared his throat. “Dr. Kolenkhov, nice to hear from you, sir. I didn’t know you were patched in.”
“That was obvious, Lieutenant. Now carry on, please. Copernicus standing by.”
“Affirmative, Copernicus,” Colter said. “Request CA coordinates from Georgian, ASAP. Do you copy, Lieutenant Muranova?”
Aboard the Georgian, Svetlana and Sergei were having a good, silent laugh as she keyed in her mike. “We copy, Jack. Navigation computer is ready to send you our specs. Sending ... now.” She keyed in a command sequence that linked up both shuttle’s computers, setting up a docking sequence that allowed the San Diego to enter the docking bay first, followed quickly by the Georgian.
Looking out the viewing port, she could see San Diego on the starboard side, following a parallel path with her own ship. Ahead of their position lay the immensity of the alien ship, now so close that it had lost its cylindrical appearance—instead it had become a vast plain with edges that curved downward.
“Attention, Copernicus,” Colter said. “This is San Diego. We are on a go path for the docking bay. Ten kilometers and closing. Stand by, please.”
SvetIana Muranova had slipped into a holding pattern beyond the docking bay. She and Sergei Andruschenko watched their instruments and confirmed with visuals through the viewing port. The San Diego coasted down below their position toward the orange-lit square of the docking bay, looking like a fat mosquito preparing to alight.
“San Diego closing on path. Five kilometers. Stand by, please.”
Svetlana was checking a readout when Sergei’s voice cut through the cabin. “Wait. What is this thing?”
Looking up, SvetIana saw that her co-pilot was pointing through the viewing port straight down toward the surface of the Dragonstar. There was a strange light beginning to emanate from the surface metal of the alien ship. From their distance, it appeared to be a formation hovering like a phosphorescent fog or aura within five hundred meters of the hull. It glowed with a fierce greenish light. She had never seen anything like it before.
“Sasha, what is it?” she asked softly.
Andruschenko shrugged. “I have never seen any such thing.”
Her headphones burned in her ears. “Whoa, Copernicus. This is Jack Colter on San Diego. We got an unidentified formation up ahead. Do you copy?”
“Affirmative, San Diego. We also copy down here,” said the voice of Kolenkhov. “Approach with caution.”
“Caution? What the hell does that mean?” Colter said. “Affirmative, Copernicus. We are closing to within two kilometers. I’m getting a VLF radiation reading—probably caused
by the formation on the surface. Looks like a stasis field, Copernicus.”
“We copy, San Diego. Whatever it is, it’s spreading over the whole ship and growing larger and more dense. Suggest that you reverse course, San Diego—immediately.”
“I think that’s a great idea, Copernicus,” Colter said.
“Stand by. We’re getting out of here.”
Svetlana listened and watched as the other shuttle, piloted by the crazy cowboy, slowed to a stop within one klick of the docking bay. She wished there had been some personnel stationed at the bay itself—perhaps then they could have received a close-up report as to what was happening. But since it was totally automated, there was little that could be done.
The San Diego had cut off its forward thrusters, coming to a complete stop before reorienting for a reverse trajectory. Svetlana was watching as the green-glowing energy field gained depth and configuration. It was expanding and becoming more powerful.
“Oh-oh,” she said to Sergei. “Something’s happening down there.” Keying in her mike, she cried out, “Jack, get out of there!”
Before she could receive a reply, it happened.
Like an arm reaching up out of a mist-covered lake, a column of green energy snaked out of the stasis field to envelop the San Diego. At the same time, an explosion of static filled Svetlana’s headphones. Suddenly the other shuttle became transparent, and within an eyeflash it was gone.
“Oh no!” Svetlana said. “Oh no.” She had the feeling that she was part of a crazy dream, that it couldn’t possibly be real.
“Copernicus, this the Georgian,” Sergei cried. “We just lost San Diego.”
“We copy, Lieutenant,” said Gregor Kolenkhov. “She is gone from our scanners. Get out of there immediately.”
“Stand by, Copernicus.” Sergei turned to his pilot and saw that she was staring into space with a dazed expression. Hesitantly, he smacked her lightly across the cheek. She was half a head taller than he, and probably had about thirty kilograms on him too.
But the light blow seemed to be what had been needed. Svetlana slowly turned to face her co-pilot, choosing not to recognize the necessary smack in the face. How embarrassing! How totally unlike her to give in to the pressure she had been trained to face.
DS02 Night of the Dragonstar Page 16