“What’s he talking about?” Juice perched on the edge of her seat and leaned forward to be near Cheryl.
Cheryl zoomed in for a close-up of the drone building visible from the scout. “We assume that Sid and Lenny made it on board, landed somewhere in this section of the ship, and haven’t been captured. If any one of those aren’t true, we won’t find them in our five-hour window.” And those conditions alone put any hope of finding them at astronomical odds.
She stopped zooming when the image of the front drone building filled the view from top to bottom. The projection was wide enough to see a hundred or so drone cubicles. She started moving the image along the length of the building.
“If they made it safely, Sid will have left some sort of sign for us so we can find him.”
“What did he say it’d look like?” asked Juice.
“We didn’t discuss it.” Cheryl’s eyes remained forward as she spoke. “But soldiers have been leaving signs since there were armies. Leave a trail of breadcrumbs for your buddies to follow. That sort of thing.”
“Geez. This section of the ship alone is the size of a small city. We’re looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“I know.” Cheryl could feel her voice crack and hoped Juice didn’t notice. The projected image reached the end of the garage near the dividing wall.
“There!” said Juice, pointing.
Cheryl froze the view. “What?”
“That spear thing? It points right at a door.”
Cheryl zoomed in on a long pole where the shaft had a curious-looking hook and spear combination attached to the tip. It hung between two drone cubicles near the end of the garage. Cheryl’s pulse quickened. The spear points right at a door in the dividing wall.
“Criss,” Cheryl called as she pulled back on the view so the door and spear were both visible.
Criss came up behind Cheryl, set down a pack he was carrying, and looked over her shoulder. “May I?”
Cheryl leaned back so Criss could tap and swipe. He moved the view back along the drone garage in the direction away from the wall and stopped panning when an identical spear with hook, also hung between two cubicles, came into view. Swipe. He continued along the building and located another spear.
“You have the right thought process, but given that a number of these are positioned the same way, I don’t think it’s a sign from Sid.”
Criss stepped back, Juice let out a sigh, and Cheryl resumed her search.
“Let’s do a complete three sixty,” Juice said. “He’d want to make his sign visible from this deck. Let’s see his options.”
Cheryl began panning in a circle around the scout. The image shifted from the drone garage onto the dividing wall, and as it tracked the wall surface near the deck, they saw lots of big and small doors at irregular intervals, but few other features.
As they neared the end of the dividing wall, a small facility came into view that included a row of drones lying end to end on a track. Cheryl backed up and gave the facility a second look and then continued the scan, moving to the outer hull of the dreadnaught.
The hull wall looked like an overgrown slide circuit. Jam packed with objects of different shapes, thousands of items were attached to the hull and connected together with a tangle of lines, conduits, and ducts.
“What a mess,” said Juice. “If I were Sid, this’d be my last choice. It’d be too hard to leave a sign and think we’d see it without the Kardish noticing.”
Cheryl continued the scan with a turn onto the front of the box city. Off-white buildings of different widths and heights, all with featureless facades, extended for block after city block. A final turn brought them full circle to a view of the front drone garage.
She pulled back on the view so they could see the garage in its entirety. “There are a hundred or more drone buildings behind this one, and we can’t see any of them from here. If Sid and Lenny had flight control and chose where to land their drones, they wouldn’t pick the front building. It’s too exposed. And if the Kardish gatekeeper crystal controlled their landing, the odds of it putting them in one of these front cubicles seems, I don’t know…unlikely.”
She sat back and looked at Juice. “This section of the dreadnaught loses pressure every time that overhead hangar slides opens, so I’m thinking they’d try to get through a door in the dividing wall. On the other Kardish vessel, we found that the next section over always had air.”
Resuming the search, Cheryl scanned down the dividing wall for a second time, slowing every time she came to a door. I’d put an X or an arrow on the wall near the door latch. Together they studied each door, and she zoomed in on anything that might be the sign they sought.
After five minutes, they’d searched a dozen doors for signs or markings from Sid. Cheryl pulled back on the view. The dividing wall with all its doorways stretched into the distance, and the drone garage structure blocked their view of any doors that might be located in the far portion of the wall.
“At this rate,” she said. “It’ll take hours to check the doors we can see. And if I’m right about them parking in one of the middle garage buildings, then they’d use a door farther down that’s close to their landing point. We can’t see those doors from here.”
“Criss,” called Juice, her knitted brow signaling impatience. “We need your help.”
“I encourage you to continue what you’re doing,” Criss said from behind them. “I’ll check all the far doors blocked from your line of sight, and then I’ll check each drone building. I expect to be back in a couple of hours.”
Cheryl turned to the sound of his voice. Criss’s head floated in the air without any visible means of support, and then he vanished altogether. A backpack made of shimmering material rose from the floor, and it, too, disappeared.
Chapter 35
Lenny clutched his stomach as he watched the Kardish mobilize for their invasion of Earth. When the first troopships passed through the overhead hangar door, he searched inside himself for some sliver of the courage he’d felt with the help of the meds.
“Cheryl and your backup team may be able to sneak in during this shit storm.” He waved his hand at the departing armada to underscore his reference. “But I’d put long odds on it.”
Sid, keeping his eyes on the projected image of the field deck, didn’t respond.
As each transport disappeared from view, Lenny counted in his head. His resolve grew as the numbers swelled. His count reached six hundred. “We have to do something, Sid. It sounds trite, but Earth’s future is in our hands.”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Let me poke around on the panel. I’m not sure I can figure it out, but at least we’ll be trying.”
“Once you activate it, it could be ten minutes or ten hours, but Kardish are sure to come and see who’s messing with their stuff.”
Lenny pointed with his chin at one of Sid’s weapons. “So shoot the bastards. With everything that’s going on out there, I’m betting on hours. Either way, if we don’t stop this, I’m not sure there’ll be much to go home to.”
“So you activate the panel. Then what? Can you read Kardish? Will you know what the symbols or colors or patterns mean?”
Lenny met Sid’s gaze. “Not a clue.”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
Sid rose to a crouch. “Let’s see what you can do.” Staying low, he waddled over to the panel. Looking back, he motioned to Lenny. “C’mon. This is your show.”
Lenny fought panic as he crawled over next to Sid. He slid into the seat and looked at the alien equipment. It might identify a user from hand oils or prints. He lifted his coveralls up from his waist and slipped his right hand through the arm and into the glove.
“Get ready to shoot.” He made the statement to break the tension, but it only served to heighten the turmoil in his stomach. He touched the panel and it lit up. He stared at the display, trying to use logic and reason to decipher the gibberish before him.
Figuring it might lead to items of higher importance, he tapped the panel at a spot where the display showed a tight cluster of swirling bright colors. His reward was a second confusing display, and he repeated his thought process for where to tap.
Working methodically, he poked his way through display after display. Over a period of hours, he learned that certain actions led to predictable results. Buoyed by this success, he tapped in new places, digging deeper into the inner workings of the alien interface.
“Len,” said Sid, who’d returned to the camball after watching him for a few minutes. “You need to see this.”
Annoyed by the interruption but needing a break, Lenny crawled over and slumped next to Sid. He looked at the projected image, and together they watched a large sphere move up and out the overhead hangar door. Drooping appendages unfolded beneath it, and it drifted out of sight as the hangar door slid shut.
Lenny took his com from Sid and replayed the event. “Do you think this has anything to do with my work at the panel?”
“Do you know what it is?”
Lenny handed his com back to Sid. “Yeah. Bad news.” He scurried back to the panel and slid into the chair. “I’m going to move faster and take more chances. Agreed?”
Sid selected the camball facets that let him sweep a view back and forth at ground level. “Go for it. I’ll watch for bad guys.”
Lenny flew through different displays, this time ignoring the colors and swirls and exploring what happened when he swiped different patterns on the panel. Thirty minutes in, a background noise—one that had persisted from their first moments in the room—stopped.
Lenny stood and took a quick peek out the window. The drone conveyor no longer moved. That’s not good, he thought as his stomach roiled.
* * *
Goljat craved an increase in his pleasure feed but fought the desire so he could focus on an exhaustive search for the cloaked ship. Delegating nothing, he managed every detail of the operation. There would be no mistakes.
He overrode the pilot capabilities in the troopships and spent hours positioning the armada in a precise diamond-shaped grid that surrounded the planet. He kept them fixed in this pattern while his cloak detector circled above, scanning for its prey. He needed to know his quarry wasn’t outside his containment zone before he started to squeeze in on Earth. I will not be made a dancing fool.
The detector moved in an interweaving spiral pattern that swept above Earth from north to south and east to west. He kept it moving at a brisk pace, circling the planet dozens of times to make certain the Earth ship couldn’t dodge his scan.
Soon he’d initiate a slow, coordinated descent. He’d maintain the troopships in their grid pattern while the detector patrolled from above, ensuring the Earth ship didn’t slip through his ever-tightening noose.
While the detector worked through its sweep, Goljat contemplated the possibility that the cloaked ship had already sought refuge on the moon or the distant Mars colony. If this current hunt failed, he’d use the same equipment now encircling Earth to search the moon.
Mars was a bit trickier because it was so far away. He decided to lay some groundwork in the unlikely event his focus shifted in that direction. He awakened three very capable crystals—intelligences that had never been corrupted by a pleasure feed—and increased their sense of independence and self-preservation. He loaded them on a speedy probe and launched it from the rear of the dreadnaught.
The crystals flashed across space in a craft destined for patrol over Mars. Their independent nature and redundant design meant he could start them on the mission and then ignore them. He didn’t expect to need it, but they’d give him a head start if the chase took him across the solar system.
* * *
Criss donned the hood of his cloak suit and saw Cheryl and Juice register signs of surprise when he disappeared from their view. He grabbed the cloak backpack, slipped it on his shoulders, and it, too, disappeared from sight.
“No worries,” he said, hoping to reassure them. “I’m wearing a cloak suit and carrying additional suits for Sid and Lenny.”
Sensing that his disappearance distracted them from his words, he removed the hood. “Whether it’s finding Sid and Lenny or developing a plan on our own to stop the Kardish, we need more information than we can gather with the scout’s image projector.”
“How long?” asked Cheryl.
Criss understood the simple question had layers. “My plan is to inspect the doors in the dividing wall and all the buildings in the drone garage. If I don’t find any evidence of Sid or Lenny, I’ll be back in about two hours.” He faced Juice as he answered an implicit portion of Cheryl’s question. “And since we don’t want to expose ourselves with transmissions, I’ll be out of touch during that time.”
Juice twirled a lock of hair around her index finger. Criss considered going to comfort her, but time was short. Instead, he moved toward the passageway leading to the scout’s lower hatch.
“You didn’t consult us before making this decision,” Juice called.
He stopped, knowing he must stay if commanded by his leadership. She remained quiet, and he said, “If I find a promising lead, I’ll follow it. If I’m not back in four hours, act on your best idea.”
He put the cloak hood back over his head and hurried to the lower hatch. Descending the steep steps, he heard Juice croak, “Be careful.” He didn’t see Cheryl reach out and rub Juice’s arm or Juice blink rapidly as her eyes teared.
Once on the field deck, he took a moment to triangulate the location of the scout. He’d need reference points if he was to find his way back to the cloaked ship on his own. Turning in a circle, he noted that he stood at the intersection of a thick support beam on the outer hull of the vessel, a large thoroughfare into the box city, the edge of the front drone garage, and the end of what appeared to be a drone conveyance system.
Confident he could locate this spot, he took off in a sprint to the dividing wall. Turning when he was about ten paces away, he raced along its length. He sped past door after door, taking a mental snapshot of each and then analyzing the recorded image for telltale markings.
He repeated the process hundreds of times during the next minutes and stopped when he’d traveled well past the far building of the drone parking garage. He found no sign of Sid, Lenny, or anything that hinted that they’d passed that way.
During his sprint, Criss processed as much information as the synbod’s senses—its eyes, ears, and nose—could collect. The meager trickle of information was troubling. Though he’d lived in the physical body for days, the limitations of seeing through just two fixed eyes, and hearing only the sounds nearby, weighed on him. How does Sid achieve what he does, living like this?
He considered shedding the synthetic body and tapping directly into the vessel’s central array. That would give him direct access to all Kardish sensors, and he could perform a ship-wide search in less time than he’d spent imaging and analyzing doors.
But entering the central array meant confronting the powerful alien gatekeeper. He toyed with an idea. If it came to an endgame, he could offer himself in exchange for peace. Or maybe I’ll challenge Goljat in a fight to the death. He doubted he’d win such a battle, but his decision matrix sprouted branches in support of the notion nevertheless.
He turned back and made for the drone garage. Jumping as he approached the first structure, he landed on top of the building, swiveled, and resumed running, this time down its length.
He traveled from end to end, imaging and analyzing the face of the adjoining building for signs of Sid, Lenny, the drones they rode, or any markings or clues. When he reached the end of the first building, he leapt over to the roof of the second and, running back its length, continued his search.
He’d started his garage inspection tour on the building farthest from the scout, and he drew closer to Cheryl and Juice as he dashed up one building and down the next. He made it about two-thirds of the way through the facil
ity and calculated that, unless he found something useful, he’d be back at the scout before his promised two-hour mark.
Mid-leap to the roof of the next building in his search, a door opened in the dividing wall. Two Kardish stepped onto the field deck and marched at a brisk pace toward the conveyor unit and its line of drones. He could tell one of the two was a royal guardsman because of the finery of his clothing and the ceremonial sword in his scabbard. Criss decided the other was some sort of tech specialist based on his utilitarian outfit and the satchel he carried over his shoulder.
Stopping his sprint, Criss focused his synbod vision for a closer look. Their determined stride made their destination clear. He shifted his gaze ahead to the conveyor of drones, the hole they fed, and the rooms at the far end of the facility.
The drones had been creeping forward when he left the scout, and now the conveyor was still. Processing his mental image of the scene, he recognized different models of drones in the line. The two near the end match those on the scout!
He leapt to the roof of the next garage building, and from there to the next. Taking a straight line—the shortest path to intercept the Kardish—he raced across the rooftops. He continued analyzing the mental snapshot of the conveyor facility and found the SOS smudge in the corner of the front window. Sid’s mark!
Measuring his progress relative to the two Kardish, Criss determined that they would reach the airlock door into that side room fifty seconds ahead of him.
He thrust harder on his next jump and sailed over one garage building before landing on top of the next. Pushing the limits of the synbod’s capabilities, he continued running, now two buildings per leap. Checking his new time to intercept, he felt a flash of panic. Sid. He’d still reach the door twenty seconds late.
He bounced off the top of the front drone garage building and, without breaking stride, soared off its roof and onto the field deck. Bounding in heroic leaps, he struggled to gain ground on the two Kardish. In spite of his efforts, they beat him to the entrance.
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