Mandrake Company- The Complete Series

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  Her mother was staying aboard, working on the hole, but Tia bounced down the ramp beside her, just as eager to explore. Sedge came as well, but he hung back, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched as he kept his distance. His palpable misery made Kalish want to give him a sympathetic hug rather than glare at him, but he had invaded her privacy. She hadn’t been able to tell which of her records he had accessed, but the hidden camera on the bridge had definitely shown him hacking into the mainframe. He deserved to be miserable, damn it.

  She and Tia waited in the rubble field below the ships for the other mercenaries to come out. Kalish carried a rifle and her pistol, along with a multitool and a knife on her belt, but she found it reassuring when Striker and Tick strode out, carrying even more arms. It wasn’t that she expected anyone to be waiting for them in this ancient refinery, but one never knew exactly what one would find, and danger was always a possibility.

  Tick elbowed Striker. “Do you think you brought enough grenades?”

  In addition to the grenades he usually wore on his belt, Striker had donned a bandolier full of them. He also wore a grenade launcher strapped across his back. That did not include the two pistols at his waist, one laser and one projectile, and the rifle cradled in his arms.

  “I’m making up for your lack,” Striker said. “Really, Tick, you’re practically naked.”

  Tick patted his rifle. “Bam Bam is all I need.”

  Thatcher trotted down the ramp, pausing to peer over the edge. The derelict mining craft was visible down there on the ore pile—Kalish had already recorded footage of it from different angles—but there was a hundred-foot drop to reach it.

  “Val lost the coin toss?” Tick asked when Thatcher joined them, his eyes bright.

  “She agreed that this would be a more titillating treat for me.”

  “She likes giving you titillating treats, does she?” Striker asked.

  Ignoring him, Thatcher stooped and touched the grimy rubble they were standing on. The heaps undulated up and down across the platform, with the smokestacks of the refineries just visible over the tops, thanks to the Divining Rod’s lights shining in that direction. Everyone had brought flashlights as well—the mercenaries’ were mounted atop their rifles.

  “The ore is under the limestone deposits,” Thatcher said, then peered into the darkness above them. The ceiling was not visible. “It’s been here a long time, for this to have formed. This part of the cavern doesn’t appear that damp. I ran a sensor sweep, and there aren’t any pools of water at the bottom.”

  “Ten thousand years is long enough for the weather patterns to change,” Kalish said. She had not spotted any of the clouds they had seen the day before, nor were there any ledges full of vegetation. Sedge probably appreciated that. He hadn’t sneezed yet today.

  “Who’s leading?” Tick asked, nodding toward the refineries.

  “You’re the tracker,” Striker said.

  “Am I tracking something?”

  “Yeah, great wealth. Go.”

  Tick shrugged and led the way.

  “Isn’t the great wealth under the limestone accretion?” Sedge asked, following Tick and not showing any interest in digging down to find out.

  Kalish followed the men. She wanted to be near the front, to claim anything scintillating that they might find and also because she usually had a nose for booby traps. She had been chagrined not to anticipate the first one and resolved to spot any other trouble.

  “Is that what Thatcher said?” Striker peered at the rocky crust above the piles with more interest. “I don’t always remember to listen past the first sentence when he’s talking.”

  “We don’t have any right to take the ore,” Thatcher said.

  “What?” Striker said.

  “Ferago Enterprises has the claim to this land. It wouldn’t be right for us to take ore.”

  “Are you joking? Who cares? Besides, aren’t we here to take their alien relics? What’s the difference?”

  “Alien relics would not be theirs,” Thatcher said. “A mining claim only conveys mineral and gem rights. Relics and coins generally fall under the so-called Finders Keepers law.”

  Kalish nodded as they clambered over a lumpy brown mountain. She clipped a nodule with her boot, and it rolled away, revealing gleaming ore beneath the crust. “It’s true. Unless you’re digging up relics in someone’s backyard.”

  Striker rubbed the side of his head. “Look, we risked our necks coming through that trap. I say we take what we can get. Nobody else is going to get through that, and this stuff is just rotting under that gray gunk. Why not help ourselves? I need a combat bonus, so I can get some more guns. And some women.”

  “You require more guns?” Thatcher looked blandly at Striker’s collection of weapons.

  “Doesn’t everybody? And women. Don’t forget the women. On Dock Seven, if you’ve got fifty aurums, you can get six women at once. All for you.”

  “I hear if you get a woman to like you, you can have her for free,” Tick said over his shoulder.

  “You’ve heard that but not experienced that, as far as I can tell,” Striker said.

  “Not recently, I’ll admit. We move around too much. And don’t get hired by women nearly enough.” Tick shook his head ruefully. “This has been a particularly pleasant change, Ms. Blackwell. Despite the dreary cave setting and the fact that you don’t know if it’s day or night, or if some animal is fixing to jump out and eat you.”

  “That’s probably unlikely here,” Kalish said, nodding toward the darkness around the platform. Even if the disks had stopped spinning, nobody would forget them. She expected they would have to navigate them again on the way out.

  Tick took a side trip, trotting toward the top of a hill. He stopped two-thirds of the way up and pointed to some lumps by his foot.

  “Animal scat?” Thatcher asked.

  “Large animal scat,” Tick said. “Something lives on this platform. Or visits now and then. I haven’t seen tracks, so it might be a flying creature.”

  “So Thatcher isn’t the only genius in here that figured out the pattern?” Striker asked.

  “Apparently not.”

  “Great,” Kalish muttered. She quickened her pace, taking the lead. As much as she looked forward to exploring, it should be done quickly and efficiently.

  Her sister stuck to her back. She had a pistol of her own, but hadn’t had much weapons training, and she gazed around at everything with wide eyes.

  They approached the first of the refineries. Aside from the accumulation of limestone that had built up on the roofs, they did not appear to have been much affected by the passage of time. The group scrambled around the side of the dome-like structure to a wide door that rose high above their heads, curving along with the wall. It was large enough that those mining ships could have flown through it.

  “Any ideas on how to get in?” Sedge asked.

  “Knock?” Tia suggested.

  “I got an idea.” Striker removed his grenade launcher. “You all might want to stand back.”

  Kalish patted along the door, hunting for controls or anything that would make entry easier—and less destructive. But the water-stained walls did not offer anything obvious. She tugged her pack off her shoulder and dug around inside for her laser torch.

  “What’s she doing?” Striker asked as she applied the concentrated beam to the door.

  “Attempting to open the door without blowing up the building?” Sedge suggested.

  “I wouldn’t blow up the building. That alien stuff looks strong. Might take out the wall at the most.”

  “On the off chance that there’s something flammable on the other side of the door, I thought this might be best.” Kalish was relieved when her laser bit through the material. After seeing how indestructible the saw blades had been, she had not been sure this would work, but she made progress, outlining a square.

  “Ugh.” Sedge had been leaning against an ore pile towering in front of the doo
r, but he pushed away, wiping his hands on his trousers. He frowned down at them.

  “Problem?” Thatcher asked.

  “Hives. Either there’s gold under that grime that’s been leaching out, or I’ve developed an allergy to limestone to add to the list.”

  “Gold?” Striker ambled to the pile and pulled out his knife. He chipped away at the hard mantle, knocking shards away.

  Sedge touched the pocket he kept his handkerchief in, but reached for a cargo pocket on the side of his trousers instead. He slid a finger along the closure to open it, then tugged out a tin, which held a moist cloth. He rubbed it over his hands, scenting the air with some alcoholic disinfectant. Thatcher was watching and Sedge offered it to him, but the commander shook his head.

  “There is gold under here,” Striker said. “Damn, Sniffles, you and your hives are a divining rod. Who knew?”

  “So glad my hives could help you,” Sedge murmured.

  “I could use some assistance here.” Kalish had succeeded in cutting a square in the door, but did not want to shove it through to land inside, not until she had seen what waited in there.

  Striker was too busy chipping ore out of the pile to help, but Tick and Sedge came forward and tugged it out. It landed on the gray ground with a puff of rock dust. Tick aimed his rifle and flashlight into the cavernous interior.

  “Lot of machinery,” he said. “Conveyor belts. Other stuff I don’t know the words for.”

  Kalish crouched beside him, playing her own light over the interior. “There should be some small items that would be worth selling. Look for anything technological.”

  “You’re giving mercenaries tips on how to loot ruins?” Tick asked. “That’s not really necessary.”

  “Oh? I thought you would only be practiced at looting bodies.” It was a line from an early Foundation-era poem about soldiers of fortune, but after she made the joke, she worried she should not have. It seemed a little tasteless, and she caught a wince from Sedge.

  Tick only shrugged and stepped through the hole. Kalish followed after him.

  “More scat in here,” he said before she had so much as stood up. “There must be another door in here, one that’s already open.”

  “Inside, Striker,” Thatcher said. “Leave that for later.”

  Thatcher, Sedge, Striker, and Tia joined them inside, shining their lights around.

  “There’s your door,” Sedge said, nodding toward the ceiling. On the far side of the cavernous building, a gaping hole had been torn in the wall, about twenty feet off the floor.

  “Uh,” Striker said, “does that remind anyone else of the hole in that downed mining ship?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Tick said.

  The men looked toward Thatcher. Waiting to see if he would cancel this exploration? Kalish frowned. This was her expedition, and she was in charge.

  “Split up,” Thatcher said. “Find anything valuable for Ms. Blackwell, then let’s get out of here.”

  “Uh huh,” Striker said, ambling off along one wall. “One for the lady, one for me...”

  Sedge headed after him. Illogically, Kalish felt stung that he chose to go that way instead of exploring with her. But how could she blame him when she had been giving him the ice-lady attitude all morning? She wasn’t supposed to want him with her anyway, not after the information her mother had found. Murderer.

  She headed left, following the wall in the opposite direction. Tick and Thatcher came with her.

  The roof had protected the equipment inside from the limestone coating the rest of the platform had received, but dust and cobwebs lay thick in the building. Something akin to rat droppings littered the floor in places too. She couldn’t imagine how rodents or anything that couldn’t fly had found their way up here, but now she knew why other creatures came to hunt.

  “Looking for anything specific?” Tick asked, his flashlight skimming the dusty machinery. It was all alien, of course, but there was a familiarity to it as well, in the height and the way things were laid out, a reminder that the ancient people had not been much different in makeup or stature from humans.

  “Anything small enough to toss in a pack that might have some value,” she said.

  Thatcher stayed a few feet behind, pausing now and then to examine a piece of machinery.

  “Can I ask you a question, Tick?” Kalish asked as they followed the curve of the wall.

  “‘Course.”

  “Do you know why Sedge left the Fleet and joined your group?”

  “Killed a feller, I think.”

  Kalish nearly tripped. She had been hoping for the truth, a more complete version of the truth, but she hadn’t expected him to be so bluntly forthcoming with her. She had figured he might try to protect his comrade’s reputation or direct her to speak to him about the matter.

  “Someone important?” Kalish asked when she had recovered.

  “Oh, let’s see. We got a few stories like that on the ship. I think with the LT, it was... yup, he killed his commanding officer.”

  “That didn’t bother your captain when Sedge came looking to hire on?”

  “Nah, the captain was Crimson Ops. Came out of the Fleet himself. He knows at least two-thirds of the fellers in there are assholes that most likely deserve to be killed.”

  “I see. And in a mercenary company, there are fewer assholes?”

  “Can’t speak to all of them, but we’re at sixty percent assholes, tops.” Tick winked at her. Then, more somberly, he added, “The LT doesn’t really talk about it, but you have to figure it wasn’t a real clear-cut situation. Usually, you would be shot if you killed another officer. But they just kicked him out. So, something was going on there.” Tick shrugged.

  Kalish chewed on his words while they continued on, passing huge vats and ladles for pouring melted ore. Was it possible that the man Sedge had killed had deserved it? That seemed an unlikely thing for a young lieutenant to judge. If the captain had committed some crime, surely he would have gone to a military tribunal or been called up on charges. Or... maybe not. She had heard enough stories from her mother to know that the Fleet wasn’t always fair and that, as with any organization, who a person knew could affect everything from promotions to punishment.

  “That looks promising, you think?” Tick’s flashlight pointed toward a storage area stacked high with molds of various shapes. In the center of his beam rested a squat cylindrical object covered with engravings.

  “Oh, good find. That’s one of their robots, probably made for performing some task related to the smelting process. I’ve seen pictures, but I’ve never seen one in person.”

  She veered in that direction, tugging her pack from her shoulder. It wouldn’t fit inside, but she had some flex-nets tied to the outside that could hold larger items. She hesitated before touching it, her gaze roving the area. Even though she doubted this little robot had been that valuable in the aliens’ eyes, she couldn’t help but think of booby traps. She didn’t see anything obvious, and her senses weren’t screaming danger to her.

  Kalish bit her lip and picked up the robot. Nothing happened. She let out a relieved breath and tucked the foot-high device into one of her nets.

  “Thanks, Tick. I—”

  An animal’s cry came from somewhere outside the building, the eerie shriek part roar and part screech.

  “I’m afraid it’s time to cut the hunt short, Ms. Blackwell,” Tick said, grabbing her arm. “Let’s get back to the door. Sir, you still back there?”

  “Yes.” Thatcher stepped out of the shadows with a find of his own, some flat oval disk with glyphs etched on the side. He tucked it under his arm and led the way back toward the door.

  The screech sounded again, closer this time. Something banged on the roof. Kalish sprinted after the men, her pack bouncing on her back, her pistol in hand. She reached the door at the same time as Sedge, Striker, and Tia, and squeezed her sister’s arm briefly. Tia, her eyes rounder than full moons, lunged for the exit square. But Striker ste
pped in front of it, blocking the hole at the same time as Thatcher spoke.

  “Don’t go out,” he said. “We’ll be more vulnerable out there. Here we have cover.”

  “But Mom,” Tia blurted, looking to Kalish.

  Kalish was inclined to hunker here, with the roof and machinery for cover, as well, but she also worried about their mother. Just because she was back in the ship did not mean she was safe, not if this was the same creature that had torn open the hull of that mining craft.

  Sedge shifted his flashlight toward the hole in the roof. Yes, some ferocious creature had likely torn that jagged gap as well.

  Even as they were looking in that direction, a shadow fell across the hole. Claws or talons landed on the roof, the high-pitched metal scrape assaulting their ears.

  “Then again,” Tick whispered, “leaving the building might not be such a silly notion. Especially if it’s got a new weather vane.”

  Striker crouched and peered through the hole in the door, poking his rifle out as he looked in all directions. “Nothing out here yet,” he whispered.

  “I would prefer to fight an aerial creature from the air myself,” Thatcher said, “but it’s a half mile back to the ships.”

  Before they could debate further, the claws scraped again, and a bulky, dark shape flew through the hole in the roof. Rifles fired, painting the shadows with red laser beams. The creature arrowed behind machinery and towering vats that blocked the view from the floor. Kalish lifted her own weapon and tried to find someplace to aim it, but it was too dark to see much. She had the sense that the creature either had not been struck or that it had... and had not been wounded by the laser fire. The image of those bones scattered around the mining ship flashed into her head.

  “I hit it,” Striker said, dropping his rifle to swing the grenade launcher off his back. “Don’t think it did much.”

  A squawk came from the shadows near the ceiling. The creature swooped down at them, almost as big as the Mandrake Company shuttles. Darting flashlights struck it briefly, revealing scales rather than feathers and a beaky proboscis full of long, sharp fangs. Machinery toppled, and Kalish was pushed to the ground behind the men before she could think to fire.