by Mike Freeman
Stone hit the button and various clamps and attachments released from around the shuttle.
“Ok, movin' out.”
Havoc closed the vehicle doors. He could fly the vehicle via cast without touching a button, though expert pilots preferred the feedback of the physical controls.
> Ok, hands on the sticks, feet on the pedals.
Stone assumed the position and Havoc guided the shuttle across the hangar. Stone smiled as they transitioned the lock and launched into space.
“Relax and enjoy the ride, ladies.”
> Make me look good.
> Tell them to hold on.
“Hold on, ladies.”
Havoc looped the shuttle over; accelerating and turning toward Plash. At the same time he rolled slowly right and, in classic Fighter Jock style, gently played out the left attachment on Novosa's harness. As they looped over, Novosa gradually leaned into Stone until their faces were practically touching. Stone spoke from behind his shades as the stunning vista of Plash and the binary system passed in front of them.
“Hi.”
Novosa gazed at him, wide eyed.
“Hi.”
39.
Havoc caught Weaver looking at him from the left hand seat. She rolled her eyes. Caught, he thought. He gestured with his hands: harmless fun. Weaver turned to look out the opposite window, but Havoc fancied he’d caught a ghost of a smile as he checked their position.
“Ok, Skip, I'm prepping for package release.”
The grin on Stone’s face was transcendental.
“Ok.”
“Deploying now.”
Satellites and orbital platforms rolled out behind the shuttle, glinting in the refracted light like a high technology rainbow. The rainbow dispersed as the packages jetted to perfect their orbital positions. As well as ship gear, Havoc had also launched his own satellites, dropkits, sky lance kinetic platform and SLAM launcher. He expected some criticism from Weaver, given her pacifist tendencies, but perhaps she didn't recognize the weapon systems. The other civilizations would, of course – these platforms were active and would be detected by the other visitors on arrival.
What they hoped wouldn’t be immediately detected were the sleeper platforms that Yamamoto and Tyburn had already launched at ambient temperature. Tyburn had been keen to get this done, getting involved to a level that had left Yamamoto bristling.
“Wow,” Stone said.
The bronze globe of Plash filled the lower viewscreen as the shuttle rolled back into a stable orientation. Swirling weather systems collided in the atmosphere, their interleaving wave fronts clawing at each other. The distant horizon, where the atmosphere heated by Jötunn collided with the cooler atmosphere of the dark side, was a spectacular ribbon of fiery white gold. Weaver’s voice was full of excitement.
“It looks spectacular.”
“Shall we drop into the atmosphere, Skip?”
Stone nodded, almost forgetting it was him who was supposed to be flying.
“Sure.”
Havoc dived the shuttle toward Plash. They dropped through the exosphere and into the swirling aurora and halos of the upper thermosphere.
“I wonder if this will cause any reaction from the planet,” Novosa said.
“I've got goosebumps all over my body,” Stone said.
Havoc smiled. He dropped the shuttle further as Weaver released sensors into the atmosphere. The plan was to fly over several locations of interest and evaluate the atmosphere before returning to the ship. Havoc was about to change all that.
> Tell them to hang on.
> Eh?
> Tell them.
“Er, hang on girls.”
“What?”
“Whaaaaaaa!”
Havoc dropped the nose and they plummeted through the stratosphere.
Stone threw his hands up as he cried out.
“Wah!”
“Shall I take her now, Skip?”
“Yes. Yes. Take her.”
Weaver tried to take control but Havoc locked her out. She spun to face him.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Ok. I have her. Nice flying, Skip.”
The shuttle was battered violently as they tore through weather systems and cloud strata, bursting through clouds tinged with copper and gold. Weaver glared at him.
“I asked you what you’re doing?”
He glanced at her as the vibration in the cabin built to a high pitched whine.
“You think we can just dip a toe in here, Weaver? We can't. Half of us are dying. We need to act. Take some risks.”
“You made that decision for us?”
“Yes.”
Stone croaked with his teeth clenched together as he rattled in his seat.
“Cool.”
Weaver shook her head in exasperation as Tyburn's voice came through the shuttle radio.
“Shuttle One, are you ok?”
“Yes,” Havoc replied.
“Then return to the upper atmosphere immediately.”
The cabin shook as they plunged downward.
“Negative, Tyburn, no can do. We have a minor fluidics issue.”
The shuttle juddered as they hit severe turbulence. Stone shrieked. Havoc sensed Intrepid attempting to take remote control.
“What’s your issue?” Tyburn said.
“It’s under control. We’re near the surface, so we’re going to take a look. We’ll report back shortly.”
Whittenhorn’s tone was abrupt.
“Return to orbit immediately.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mr Whittenhorn.”
Havoc’s crewmates whipped round to look at him. Perhaps he’d been a tad melodramatic.
“Yet. I can’t do that yet.”
Whittenhorn also took a dim view.
“This is insubordination, Havoc.”
“I’ll explain on our return, Mr Whittenhorn.”
“It’s Commander Whittenhorn and for the record I’m ordering you to return to orbit.”
“Understood, Commander. For the record, I should note that this is solely my decision. I have locked the others out.”
“We’ll talk about this.”
Whittenhorn cut the connection before Havoc could respond.
Novosa gestured sideways.
“We’re conning.”
No shit, Havoc thought, as he saw the huge vapor trails the shuttle was leaving in its wake. He reduced their angle of attack and the buffeting rattle settled to a steady vibration.
Stone rubbed his forehead.
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Weaver scarcely seemed to believe it was happening. She leaned toward him with her eyes blazing, clearly furious.
“You are the most irresponsible, unreliable, capricious––”
They burst out of a giant amber cloud and swooped down between two massive hyperboloid crystalline towers that had lightning crackling around them. The extruded hourglass structures were staggering in scale; so large that they generated their own weather. A long vapor trail streamed out behind the speck of the shuttle and up into the cloud, scribing their curving arc through the atmosphere.
Weaver’s mouth hung open. Havoc glanced sideways.
“You were saying?”
Novosa pointed ahead.
“Oh my God. What’s that?”
Weaver turned back to the front.
“Wow,” she said, hopelessly distracted.
40.
Havoc stared in awe at the gigantic terracotta towers that rose before them from a broad depression on the surface of Plash. The towers were distributed in a haphazard pattern, separated by wide avenues and plazas, and grew in height as they ranged toward the highest tower at the center – the Colosseum that he’d seen in the ship briefing.
Most of the towers had no roofs and were empty inside. The tower walls had the appearance of red sandstone, but must have been constructed of something far stronge
r to withstand such ferocious weather. The staggering scale of the structures unfolded as they flew toward them. They were embellished with arches, slits, decorative pillars and occasional flat platforms that passed through to the inside. In addition, the walls were covered – blanketed even – by a sea of hieroglyphics; ideograms, diagrams, script and symbols of all manner and description.
“Touvenay’s going to love this,” Weaver murmured.
Touvenay replied from orbit.
“I am bewitched.”
Havoc smiled.
As they flew over the outer towers they could see ramps that spiraled down inside the walls. Inside some of the shorter towers, the ledges spiraled inward as they progressed downward, ending in circular areas that gave the structures the appearance of ancient amphitheaters.
Havoc struggled to maintain their heading as the shuttle was punched sideways in the brutal crosswinds.
“Get ready to drop some probes.”
“Ready,” Weaver said.
The shuttle shot upward in a vertical wind shear. The flying conditions were hellish. Weaver dropped a probe and sensors burst outward as it spiraled away behind them.
“I'm going to drop another to make sure.”
Havoc nodded.
“Good idea. You alright there, Stone?”
Stone clung onto his chair, clearly petrified under his shades. He emitted a peculiar grunt. Havoc concentrated on maintaining steerage in the turbulence.
“It’s a little rough. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”
Novosa pointed at the viewscreen.
“What's that?”
Havoc followed the track of Novosa’s finger.
Adjacent to the Colosseum was a triangular plaza and near its center was a slender three-sided minaret. Despite being three hundred meters tall, the minaret was dwarfed by the Colosseum looming over it. The needle-like structure was situated on the lip of a deep crater that occupied the center of the plaza. The minaret's white surface was in striking contrast to its darker surroundings and the twilight of the shadow side of Plash only amplified the effect.
Novosa frowned.
“You would have thought it would be covered in dust, same as everything else.”
Stone leaned forward.
“That crater looks like a near miss.”
Havoc scanned the hole.
“Looks like an orbital impact.”
“You mean a weapon?” Stone said.
“Definitely a possibility.”
The Colosseum reared up in front of them. Havoc planned to pass it on the right for a recce sweep. He noted the drifts of tinted crystals collecting around its base – snow – though thankfully not too much.
Weaver highlighted the position of the minaret on their mission net.
“The minaret's position is strange if there was another structure in the center of the plaza.”
Novosa nodded.
“I see what you mean.”
Touvenay spoke from orbit.
“All art is juxtaposition.”
They laughed. Weaver turned to Novosa.
“Are these readings correct?”
“Are those from the minaret?”
Stone looked over.
“That can't be right.”
Havoc glanced across.
“What––”
An alarm flashed. While they flew forward at three hundred kilometers per hour a nine hundred kilometers per hour cross wind crashed into them.
Novosa threw a hand forward.
“Otva!”
The wind carried them rapidly toward the Colosseum. If Havoc didn’t flare they would crash into it. Damn it. They would have to loop back round.
Havoc made a snap decision and handed control over to Weaver. Weaver increased thrust and took the shuttle straight again. They flew toward the Colosseum.
They were going to hit the Colosseum.
Stone covered his eyes.
“No!”
Weaver feathered the controls. Where Havoc would have blasted them clear, Weaver went with it. The great curving wall of the Colosseum hurtled toward them. Weaver guided the shuttle gently sideways. Havoc tensed as the towering wall raced at them.
They got an excellent look at the patterns of hieroglyphs carved on the tower as it passed by less than three meters from their left wing.
Havoc exhaled.
“Nice flying, Weaver.”
“Thanks.”
“Can I look now?” Stone said.
Novosa sat back, breathing easier.
“Where next?”
Havoc thought about Weaver’s briefing.
“How about the pyramid?”
The others considered it. He could sense their excitement. Weaver turned to him.
“Can we?”
He chuckled. Weaver obviously wasn’t used to breaking rules.
“Yes we can.”
Stone turned to Havoc.
“Let's go for it.”
Havoc raised an eyebrow.
“You should ask our pilot, not me.”
Weaver’s eyes widened. Her hands sprang off the controls as if they were scalding hot. Havoc gestured in front of him.
“Want me to take it?”
“Yes.”
Havoc accelerated away.
41.
Havoc flew what they had termed northward, toward what they called the top of Plash – arbitrary designations but useful nonetheless.
He stayed low so they could survey the surface, dropping various probes and sensors as they journeyed north. The atmosphere in the shuttle was flush with excitement. They passed over a series of parallel canyons on a breath taking scale.
“Natural or manufactured?” Novosa said.
Weaver shook her head.
“I keep changing my mind. It could be shaped by a modern civilization or it could be manufactured.”
Havoc frowned in surprise.
“You mean the planet?”
Stone shook his head.
“The scale is too big.”
Weaver nodded.
“I agree. We never thought that the entire planet had been manufactured, though the surface might be. What interests me most is the propulsion system implied by its orbital track.”
Novosa pointed to the horizon, where lightning flashed around the silhouette of one of the colossal hyperboloid towers that speared the sky.
“You can’t tell me those towers aren’t manufactured.”
Havoc watched the lightning flicker around the remarkable structure.
“Any idea what they’re for?”
“The way they’re arrayed in lines across the surface reminds me of power distribution,” Stone said.
“Or surface defenses,” Novosa said.
Weaver pursed her lips.
“They could be sensors or communication devices.”
Stone peered at the distant structure.
“Perhaps they provide a release mechanism for processes that take place deep under the surface.”
Weaver nodded.
“Or they’re a conduit for inputs to those processes.”
Havoc nodded slowly. A smile played over the corner of his mouth.
“You could just say you don’t know.”
Weaver made a face.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
Havoc chuckled as the land dropped away and they passed over the boundary of an ice sheet – though ice marsh might be more appropriate given the mixture of ice and liquid cloaked in heavy red mist. Cloud swirled over the semi-frozen landscape, whipped along chaotically by the wind.
“This is incredible,” Weaver said.
~ ~ ~
Two hours later they crossed the far coastline and passed over rolling dunes of copper desert. Conversation ceased on the shuttle as the top of the pyramid appeared on the horizon, menacing them like a raised enemy standard.
In time, the pyramid’s fifty meter high boundary wall was distinguishable as a
thin line beneath it. The alien structure kept expanding; growing additional ramparts, platforms, slopes and walls until it dominated the skyline, implacable and immutable. The dark pyramid seemed allergic to light – it had an aphotic quality that was only amplified in the twilight of the shadow side.
Stone broke the silence as they closed the final kilometers.
“Is this one of the sides with a statue?”
“South side, yes it is. There is no statue on the east side,” Novosa said.
Weaver turned to Havoc.
“Are you going to fly over it?”
Havoc shook his head as he looped the shuttle left.
“Not exactly. I thought I’d fly parallel to the south wall. When we near the east side, we could send a drone over to cut the corner.”
Weaver looked hesitant.
Havoc shrugged.
“Unless you don't want to, in which case we can just stand off and look.”
She turned to him. He could see the excitement in her eyes.
“Let's do it.”
Havoc turned to the others.
“Ok?”
Novosa and Stone nodded as Stephanie's voice burst out of the radio.
“This is Shuttle Two. We’ve had an explosion!”
42.
Havoc could hear the unbridled terror in Stephanie's voice.
“Shuttle One confirms your message, Shuttle Two.”
Whittenhorn spoke from the Intrepid.
“We confirm your message, Shuttle Two. Let us handle this Havoc.”
“This is Shuttle Two. We've had an explosion and we've got gas venting outside. We've lost drive and one of our oxygen tanks. Our acceleration is down to a third of rated. Vehicle integrity seems intact. Please confirm receipt of this message.”
“Ok, Shuttle Two, we’re checking your telemetry. We'll come back to you,” Tyburn said.
Havoc began a sweeping turn to come round and fly along the south wall of the pyramid. He took the opportunity to pull up the telemetry data broadcast by Shuttle Two as Stephanie came back on.
“This is Shuttle Two, we've had an explosion. Please confirm receipt of this message. Can you hear us, Intrepid?”
Havoc frowned as Tyburn responded.