by Chris Reher
She linked her neural node to the ship without further question.
“Tower,” Seth said, continuing to hover over his assigned deck. “Hey, you know you’re not actually a tower? I can see you there on top of the pyramid.”
“What’s your query, Pilot?”
“Tower, Dutchman Pacoby Three here. Got trouble with the Eill pogs. Request other instructions.” Ciela nodded when a warning light appeared on the console. He held his breath while someone scanned his ship for some sort of subterfuge.
“Dutchman cleared for west deck,” the controller said. “T-3 pogs enabled there. Follow guides to new designation.”
Seth sighed and moved to the space next to Pacoby’s cruiser. “You’re quick, lady.”
“Must be that extra piece of brain matter in my head.” She scanned both landing platforms. “Busy place. The port I mean. Four of Pacoby’s ships, counting us, and another six Arawaj cruisers on the ground. Looks like at least six Shri-Lan cruisers down here. That class carries at most a crew of six but who knows how many Shri-Lan were already here? Three transports in orbit, not counting Sebasta.”
“You’re right. Busy place.”
“Hmm, I can’t tell how many Shrills they’re keeping in that north hangar. But that’ll mean additional armed fighters.”
“Those Shrills will cause trouble for Pacoby when the time comes to get out of here. If he doesn’t blow them all to bits, first.”
“Then you’ve got yourself a nice little diversion, don’t you?” she said with a grin.
He switched the com channel to accept a signal from Pacoby’s cruiser. It was addressed to all four of his ships. “Our Shri-Lan hosts have offered hospitality,” Cie Pacoby said in a voice so cheerful that it was nearly unrecognizable. “You may all debark and join them in the main hanger for some entertainment while our leaders see to business. No weapons. Please be courteous.”
“Isn’t that interesting,” Seth mumbled. The Dutchman settled smoothly into its berth and they felt the clamps lock. He kept the pressure door to the cargo space sealed while the gas mix equalized. After a moment the ship reported acceptable conditions.
Ciela went ahead of him into the main cabin to step into her boots. She wore a long tunic and vest pieced together from his haphazard, multi-planetary wardrobe. “Please tell me they have clothing shops on Delphi,” she mumbled.
“They don’t have shops at all. But they have clothes, don’t worry.” Seth handed her a small projectile weapon and the knife she had used earlier.
“He said no weapons.”
“That only applies to Arawaj.” He went to the com console and withdrew translating devices. After loading a fairly rudimentary program able to exchange basic language with the locals here, he held his data sleeve over her own to transfer it to her as well. “I’ve never met a Taancer before,” he said. “Should be interesting. Can’t wait to meet them.”
“I’m sure they’re nice people,” she said, sounding a little distracted. “Do you think we’ll find the others? This place is so crowded with Shri-Lan…”
He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I’ll do everything I can to get to your friends. You know it may not be possible but we’ll try, I promise. But I need to be able to trust you. I can’t have you second-guessing me or suddenly decide you want to be Arawaj. That’ll just get us both killed. Are we clear on that?” He cocked his head with a grin. “Or do I have to lock you up while I do this?”
“You can count on me.” She looked up to study his face as he tucked the receiver behind her ear. “Seth…”
“Hmm?”
“What happened before…” She pointed a finger at the lounger behind them. “I mean… That was just because, right? I guess it was bound to happen. You… well, you’re so... Uh, I guess you have lots of girls.”
He took in her intense expression as she waited for reply. Intense, but devoid of any clue to the right response. His place in her life right now should be the last thing on her already troubled mind. Why was he still making things more confusing and stressful for this woman? Willing or not, now he had helped himself to someone who was, technically anyway, a Union prisoner. Since when was that acceptable? Once again, he was allowing a quick mind and enticing body to compromise his objectivity. The thing to do was to accept the escape she offered and treat this like nothing more than an inevitable outcome of their close confinement aboard his ship.
Instead, he tipped her chin up to kiss her softly. “You’re the only girl here,” he said. “Let’s not worry about anything but why we’re here.”
Chapter Twelve
The concourse to which all umbilicals from the west deck connected greeted them with a confusing mingle of Centauri, Human, Feydan, Magran and a variety of others, including the white-haired Bellacs and a smattering of Mraki. All in civilian dress ranging from simple kilts on the Caspians to complete battle gear worn by the tank-like Mrakis. A black bandanna tied around their necks ensured that everyone recognized the Shri-Lan among them. Of course, the Shri-Lan walked about fully armed while the Arawaj, like Seth and Ciela, had discreetly concealed their own weapons.
The deck, covered and sealed against the outside air, seemed to be a sort of forecourt to the pyramid, serving as repair station and cargo transfer point as well as meeting space for the crews. It may have been a pleasant space once, but now the grease-covered floor was cracked in places and the battered walls sagged. A hint of chlorine in the air made Seth question the quality of the seals.
“Look for a spot where you can access the schematics for this place,” he murmured as they strolled toward two Centauri he remembered from Pacoby’s ship. Indeed, the diminutive leader stood nearby.
“Lovely party,” Seth said, looking across the vast space where a bearded Human was regaling a crowd with some tale involving much hand-waving and shouting. Smaller huddles of rebels, mostly segregated by faction, wandered the hall, not looking very certain about what they were to do here. Seth suspected that all of them had been made hostage while the Brothers and Sebasta worked out their deal.
Pacoby turned from his conversation with his men to look up at Seth. “Take a position by those portals,” he instructed, glancing toward a series of large doors at the end of the hall. “Report any changes in security activity. Nothing more. We’ll take care of this. When we succeed, you can leave.”
“So what’s the escape plan?”
Pacoby glanced at Ciela. “Stay by my wing. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“Got it, boss,” Seth said and waved casually at Pacoby’s guards.
“That piece of dirt!” Ciela hissed as they walked to their post. She ducked around a couple of Feydans who were already taking advantage of Shri-Lan hospitality and alcohol. “He wants us around to make sure he gets through the keyhole later. What about the others?”
Seth looked over the concourse. Nearly a hundred men and women gathered here now and he supposed the same thing was going on at the north deck. A few Shri-Lan paced the crowd, scanners in hand and looking not at all interested in this gathering. Seth guessed their duty was to survey what sort of army Sebasta was offering in exchange for a place among Shri-Lan upper echelons. Not a bad trade, he thought. Ten battle-class cruisers, the hardware still in orbit, a few dozen fully trained fighters and pilots, six spanners. And not just any spanners, he reminded himself. As part of this tribute, they likely outweighed anything else Sebasta brought to the table.
They passed the triple set of doors which were probably as heavily secured as they looked. Armed guards loitered nearby, glaring at passersby. One of the doors opened for a group of Taancers pulling carts loaded with offerings of food and drinks for their Arawaj guests. Seth strolled closer, raising a hand in greeting as he activated his translator.
“Hello,” he said, offering a smile which he hoped would be interpreted correctly. The Taancers were smaller than he expected, likely in answer to the meager oxygen level outside. “We are pleased to visit your beautiful planet.”<
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The Taancer stopped and regarded him curiously, making no sound but a heavy rasping through its short trunks. Its chest heaved as if each breath was an effort.
“Perhaps we can see more of it,” Seth tried.
“You want food?” grated though his earpiece when the Taancer made some sounds.
“No, thank you. I’d like to know more about this place.”
“We have food.”
“Seth, look,” Ciela nudged his arm. “That’s a ticker.”
He looked more closely at the Taancer’s head. Nestled between two raised ridges of scales behind its ear holes a small metal device glowed pale green to show its activity. “Damn,” Seth whispered, astonished. Shri-Lan employed the mechanism to control their army of Rhuwac foot soldiers during training. By delivering pain signals directly into a victim’s brain it allowed them to turn the ferocious, brutal, but nevertheless sentient beings into an army of killing machines used to bring local populations under control. Union soldiers called them cannon-fodder.
“They’re enslaving these people?” she said.
“And no one around to stop them. If Air Command thought these people were being forced to cooperate with the Shri-Lan, they’d have cleared this place ages ago.” Seth kept his eyes on the slave to ensure that it understood him. “Without evidence or a call for help, they have no reason to interfere.”
Ciela scowled at a Shri-Lan walking past them. “And we want to join these bastards?”
Seth gave her his best told-you-so look. He turned back to the Taancer when a Mraki rebel came up behind them and shoved his elbow into the slave’s back. “Get on with it. People want their dinner.” He laughed when the Taancer stumbled away, after its companion. “Damn lizards. Don’t let them bother you. They’re harmless.”
“No kitchen duty for you, eh?” Seth said.
“Not a bit. They do good cleaning, too. Of course most of ‘em work with the ore. They’ve got nimble fingers. Best part is they can breathe proper air, not just that shit outside. For a while anyway.”
Ciela stared after the man as he strode away to shout at the Taancers over the din in the hall. “Seth, this is terrible!”
“It is. Come on. I have the feeling we don’t have much time.” He looked past her and his brow furrowed. “What the…” He stopped her when she started to turn to see what had caught his attention.
“What?” she whispered when he also turned away.
“Air Command agents.”
“Here? Now?”
He hurried her to one of the shelves along the wall where unappetizing bowls of food stuffs had been placed. “The tall redhead by the door and the Human beside her. Vanguard agents. There are probably more here, then, that I don’t recognize.”
She peered past his shoulder. “Big rifles on them. Shri-Lan cover?”
“I guess so. What are they doing?”
“Talking to the guards at the door to the pyramid. Do they know you?”
“She does.”
“They’re going through the door now.”
“Can you see what’s behind there?”
“A tunnel, looks like. More guards on the other side. We’ll never get through there with all this going on.”
He searched the end of the hall, careful to not even present his profile to the Union agents. If Air Command had infiltrated the Shri-Lan side, chances were that they were here for the Brothers or the spanners, possibly both. For now, his instincts told him to stay well out of their way.
“Over here.” He hustled Ciela away from the crowd and into a hygiene station along the far wall. The damp room was rife with the smell of stale steam, unwashed towels, harsh soaps. Unlike many such places on orbiters or planetary air fields, plentiful water on Taancerum allowed them to use that instead of the usual decon systems for cleaning.
Seth glanced at his sleeve to check for security cameras and then moved past a row of shower cubicles to the toilet system. Here, too, puddles of water splashed under his boots. The blue light strips designed to provide disinfection worked only sporadically, casting a sick pall over everything.
“Come up here.” He stood on a commode and waited for her to also climb up. “You should be able to get over the partition and drop down on the other side.”
“And then?” She grimaced when her sleeve brushed against the damp wall. “How do you know what’s behind there?”
He pointed to a door without a handle near the rear of the chamber. “That goes somewhere. It should have a lock on the outside. You’ll be able to crack it. This place wasn’t designed for high security. So far, it looks like everything is being guarded by manpower, not electronics.”
The door behind them opened and Seth quickly stepped down to lift Ciela from her perch. He pushed her against the wall, for good measure slipping his hand under her vest as he kissed her. She grinned against his lips and raised a knee up along his thigh. When a shadow moved past the door she moaned loudly and grasped Seth’s hips to pull him closer.
“No place to get away, huh?” a rough voice spoke, sounding amused. They heard the sound of a gun being set aside before the man went about his business. Eventually, he strolled out of the room, whistling.
Seth released her and took a trembling breath. Despite the unsavory surroundings, touching her like this was just a little too stimulating. “I always wanted to do that.”
“In a toilet?” She twisted to look what sort of filth had rubbed off on her clothes.
“I’m an opportunist. Hurry. People will keep coming in.”
He lifted her up and watched her wriggle under a ceiling tile and into the plenum. She paused up there, listening for movement in the space beyond, possibly more of the Taancer slaves. Finally, she slid down and disappeared.
Breathless moments passed before he heard some soft clicks near the service entrance and then the door moved aside to let him enter the dim passage beyond.
As he assumed, this bypass led around the main concourse to deal with supplies, garbage, air conduits and other maintenance systems. They crept silently around a corner where another passage led to an unmarked door. His scanner showed no one beyond this and she got busy with the keyplate.
“Yes!” Seth whispered when they stepped into a work room. Racks of tools, chemicals and portable oxygen tanks stood on one side. The other was taken up by a small communications console and work station. “See what you can do with that.”
She dropped into the chair while he waited near the door. “It’s got an interface.” She rubbed her hands together. “I’m as good as in.”
“Be careful.”
“I’m glad you said that. I wasn’t planning on being careful till you reminded me.”
“How about careful and quick?” He shifted his eyes from his scanners to her as she linked her neural node to the station and began to probe its system, looking for security triggers as she dug deeper.
“Got it,” she said. Above her a map of the pyramid came into view, showing a wireframe of all levels along with the systems that supported them. Clearly meant for housekeeping, this display highlighted service areas along with engineering system and supply lines for water, power and air.
“Can you download that?”
“Not without launching an alert. Give me a moment.” She placed her hands flat on the console and stared intently up at the monitor. The wireframe shifted, zoomed in and away, rotated as she directed it, barely blinking as she concentrated. Several levels of the building extended below ground where they met a subsurface water source, more river than aquifer. He saw the outline of some sort of underground machinery but its purpose was less clear. “All right,” she said. “I think I got it.”
“You can remember the whole layout?”
“Yes.” She still seemed a little distant. “There are a few ways to get to the upper levels. But there is no way into the pyramid that doesn’t involve a lot of guards. There are only a few entrances.”
“And no doubt the guards are twice as alert as usu
al.” He watched her shut the display down. “How do the Taancers get in?”
“The main doors, I’m assuming. Outside. They work in the bottom two levels of the building.”
He went to the supply shelves to survey the oxygen bottles stacked there. “Then we’ll go that way, too. The east side might be less guarded. You’d think they’d keep a few suits in here. Doesn’t anybody go outside?” A mild vibration on his wrist alerted him to the proximity scanner. “Someone coming. Just one.”
They stood aside, on either side of the door, weapons drawn. He noticed that she had chosen her knife instead of the gun, likely the better choice in this small space. When the door opened and a stooped figure entered, he lunged forward to grasp the intruder.
A high-pitched wail drove into their translators, making both of them wince. Their quarry dropped to the floor and scrambled into a corner of the room, arms flailing wildly as if to keep a swarm of insects away.
“Stop, stop,” Seth said, raising his hands. “No harm. All is well. Silence, please.”
When they made no further move, the Taancer ceased its keening and flailing and just sat with its arms around its knees, squinting up at them. Like the other they met earlier, it labored to draw air into its lungs. One of the trunk-like proboscises on its face was half the length of the other and scarred.
Ciela crouched and approached slowly. She reached out and stroked the Taancer’s arm. “No harm, see? Gods, Seth, it’s shaking all over.”
Seth, aware of his size in this small room, kept his distance. “What do they do to these people to get them into this state?”
“Do you understand us?” she said, keeping her voice low and even. “We won’t hurt you.”
The Taancer looked at her hand still moving over its scales. “I understand.”
She pulled her hand away, unsure of what her touch might mean, if anything, to them. “We will try to help. Can you help us?”
“Help.”
“Yes. To make the bad people go away.”
Seth sighed. “And how do you propose we do that?”