Etude to War (Earth Song Cycle Book 4)

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Etude to War (Earth Song Cycle Book 4) Page 14

by Mark Wandrey


  “This is your expedition,” Pip reminded him.

  “And you’re the expert,” Kal’at retorted.

  “I suppose.” He stared at the monitors for another minute to buy some time. The energy signal was a dozen meters away. Nothing could be seen from where they sat. They’d have to go outside. “I really don’t like the idea of leaving the ship.”

  The Rasa were halfway through donning their pressure suits before Pip began taking his out of the locker in the rear of the cabin. Another human might easily recognize Pip’s body language and realize just how unhappy he was at the prospect of going EVA. The Rasa thought he was unfamiliar with the equipment, and once they finished suiting themselves and checking each other, they moved in to help Pip.

  Anyone on old Earth would think a member of the Chosen, whose stated mission involved traveling to far-flung corners of the galaxy, would be well versed and practiced at using a spacesuit. The truth was, the Chosen only owned a handful of the devices. The Portals made for safe, easy travel from world to world without any exposure to space.

  On rare occasions, a Chosen scout would don a spacesuit to investigate a decompressed space station where a Portal was located, but Pip had never worn a pressure suit before three days ago. He had learned the basics from a scout instructor on a quick trip to Steven’s Pass.

  “Damn it, I’m a scientist, not an astronaut.” Two of the Rasa soldiers checking the connections on his backpack exchanged curious looks. The word ‘astronaut’ had no translation.

  His instructor had told Pip how lucky he was. “These suits are a quantum leap over what we used on Earth,” the jovial, elder scout said. “In the old days, NASA spacesuits weighed over seventy kilos and were so cumbersome it was impossible to get up without help if you fell over in normal gravity.”

  “How interesting,” Pip had said with no real interest as he watched slide after slide of schematics and procedures for donning and maintaining the suits, in addition to emergency procedures.

  “Isn’t it? There are actually Concordian units that are only force fields! You can float around in space with nothing on but your birthday suit.”

  “Excellent. Give me one of those, and I’ll be on my way.”

  “I’d love to, but we don’t have any.”

  Pip had rolled his eyes and grumbled.

  “And even if we did, once it’s turned on you’d become a big ball floating in space. They don’t cling to your skin, they just make a sphere of air around you. We think they were emergency life support modules for space stations. They wouldn’t be much help for exploring.”

  The lesson ended with tables and figures describing, in graphic detail, the effects of vacuum on the human body and how little time he would live, if the suit were breached.

  As they hooked up the last connection and powered up the suit, Pip did his best to stem the feelings of panic that began to bounce around the insides of his brain. At least it wasn’t the damned Tactical Drive on the Kaatan. He would rather see how long he could live in a leaking spacesuit than go through that again.

  Over most of his body, the suit felt like an arctic survival suit. The backpack only weighed a couple of kilos and really wasn’t noticeable, especially in the light gravity. Mounted on his right forearm was a specialized tablet for controlling the suit. The worst part was the helmet. It was nothing more than a moliplas bag, forced into a fishbowl shape by atmospheric pressure.

  All the various stress and yield figures for moliplas ran through his mind, and that made it worse. Plus, once it was fully inflated, it was like he had no helmet at all. The old suits he’d seen pictures of were mostly metal with a window in front, severely restricting the vision.

  “These are much superior,” the instructor had told him.

  Now, as the Rasa began depressurizing the Phoenix cabin, Pip could not agree less. He fought to keep from holding his breath as his heart pounded in his chest, and the helmet became invisible. When the door opened, revealing unprotected space, he almost screamed.

  The Rasa gleefully jumped from the doorway, bounding outside in the one-third gravity. They were natural acrobats, and Remus was an airless playground to them. All except Kal’at, who waited behind Pip and watched him with some apprehension. Unlike the soldiers, he’d spent enough time with humans to know that an incurious human was a not-normal human.

  “We will be sure to keep you safe,” he assured Pip over the suit’s radio. “The Rasa use spacesuits often because we go places almost no other species will go. We will be there if anything happens to you.”

  “But who’s going to take care of you if something goes wrong?” Pip wanted to ask. “I still think this is a bad idea,” he repeated and stepped out onto the airless world. A moment later the pilot, who was staying behind, closed the door and sealed them outside.

  After a few minutes, Pip began to feel better. His breathing had slowed, and the pounding in his temples had stopped. The suit had micro-miniature motors in its joints and tiny gravitic impellers in the backpack that helped counter the low gravity. “You can walk in zero gravity like normal,” Kal’at explained. “I walked three kilometers outside a space station many years ago.”

  Pip shuddered at the thought. He was only feeling more comfortable because the suit helped him overcome the outlandishness of the situation. Cold sweat dripped down his back, and he forced himself to think about the interesting things they might find on Remus.

  Their destination was only a short distance from the shuttle, out of view behind a series of tumbled boulders. As soon as they rounded the rocks, the artificial nature of their destination became obvious.

  The surrounding landscape was natural rocks and fractured terrain, but on the other side of the rocks, there was a perfectly symmetrical tower protruding a half dozen meters above the ground. Whoever built it had gone to extreme measures to color and texture it to perfectly match the surface of Remus. Considering the size of the tower, the camouflage seemed way overdone.

  “Why this?” Pip wondered aloud. “On top of everything else? They use a massive, active stealth network to defeat all but the most reactive sensor arrays, but they also camouflage the heat vents?”

  “It does seem like a bit much,” Kal’at agreed, “at least on the surface.”

  “No pun intended,” Pip mumbled quietly, then he said louder, “Let’s get a better look.”

  They examined the vent shaft, Pip and Kal’at using portable sensors to test the vented particles to try and figure out what was coming out of it. “It is ingeniously baffled,” Kal’at pointed out.

  “Yes,” Pip agreed, “it was lucky Lilith detected it at all. The shaft probably vented at just the right moment.” As they spoke, the computer tablet Pip held in his gloved hand flashed. “It’s venting now.”

  “I see,” Kal’at said and observed his own computer. The two soldiers eyed the tower suspiciously and unconsciously stepped backward. Both carried shock rifles tailored to their smaller statures.

  “Pretty clean,” Pip said after five minutes when the venting had ceased.

  “But not entirely,” Kal’at pointed out.

  “Right, just a slight trace of ionizing radiation and some neutrons.”

  “What does it tell you?”

  Pip tried to reach up and scratch his head, but his hand bumped into the bulb of his helmet before he could reach his face. He shook his head and chuckled. “If it was just harnessing the thermal dynamic energy there wouldn’t be any neutrons.”

  “Ionizing radiation and neutrons are byproducts of nuclear decay,” Kal’at said, reciting some basic physics.

  “Yes. You get a little naturally in lots of common elements, but not like this. This is left over from a fusion reaction.”

  Pip walked around the shaft, examining it closely. “This baffle seems to be filtering more than heat, it’s getting rid of most of the nuclear garbage too.”

  “There is no sign of an entrance,” Kal’at said.

  “It must be by one of the other sh
afts, or someplace else entirely. How far is it to the next shaft?”

  “Seven kilometers.”

  Pip consulted the suit interface on his arm-mounted tablet and sighed. The suit was good for many more hours. “Okay, let’s take a walk.”

  * * *

  The second shaft was identical to the first, all the way down to the sensor readings, recorded as it began to emit. “This is not working,” Kal’at said. “The entrance must be somewhere else.”

  “I agree,” Pip said.

  “If it is shielded as well as these shafts, we could wander this planetoid for years before tripping over it.”

  Pip couldn’t argue with the logic, but he had an idea. “There is one possibility.”

  He consulted his tablet and did a calculation before turning to examine the low mountain and his suit’s oxygen reserve. “We’re going to have to hurry though.”

  Even though he regularly worked out, his body had never completely recovered from the years of lying in a coma ward after his brain injury. Even with nano treatments and physical therapy, he’d never regained his earlier conditioning and stamina. Normally, it wouldn’t matter. He was more than fit enough to meet the minimum Chosen standards of service. His brain was his most powerful asset anyway. But hiking up the side of a mountain, on an airless moon, he missed his formerly fit and young body.

  The top of the mountain wasn’t defined by an obvious peak, only a leveling of the slope. Pip told his computer to scan the area while he stood and tried to control his breathing. The suit’s computer warned him he was going through consumables far too quickly, but he was happy that in all the excitement, he had forgotten about his almost crippling agoraphobia. Then the scan finished. The results were less than he expected, but more, as well.

  “Nothing obvious,” Kal’at said.

  “No, it’s what isn’t obvious. The rocks are in a geometric formation.” He was still breathing hard as he walked around the shape, defining it for the Rasa.

  “An accidental formation?” asked one of the soldiers, the first time any of them had spoken. Until then, Pip hadn’t been sure they were wearing translator pendants.

  Pip shook his head. “With the Concordia, there are no accidents.” He took a small, pinpoint sensor wand from his belt and attached the probe cable to his computer. Using a detail scanning program, he began walking the same path.

  “What are you looking for?” Kal’at asked.

  “The doorbell,” Pip answered, not really thinking about who he was talking to.

  All three Rasa cocked their heads, mirror images of each other. The rocks formed a pentagram, and on one of the five sides, the sensors picked up a tiny electromagnetic reading. It was no more than he would have expected from a pocket watch or the residual leakage from a passive sensor.

  “Gotcha,” he said and bent over. He found a small, perfectly-shaped round knob. Shrugging, he reached down and pressed it. The knob slid neatly into the ground.

  They felt a slight shuddering under their feet, and a pentagon-shaped section of the ground detached and began to descend. Pip didn’t hesitate before stepping onto the elevator as it started down. The three Rasa were less decisive.

  “What are you doing?” Kal’at cried in dismay.

  “What we came for!”

  “That did not include jumping down holes!” Kal’at watched as Pip shrugged and descended, cursing in his native language at the careless curiosity of the human species.

  “What can be done?” one of the soldiers asked.

  “Only one thing,” Kal’at replied.

  Before the elevator had dropped too far, he jumped and landed lightly next to Pip. The soldiers were less sure than Kal’at, but when both beings they were charged with protecting acted, they had no other choice. They jumped right behind their leader. All four looked up at the steadily diminishing view of the equatorial sea of Bellatrix, until a doorway slid across the shaft, sealing them in.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 5

  March 6th, 534 AE

  Chosen Headquarters, Steven’s Pass, Bellatrix

  Minu looking forward to this day any more than a cow would anticipate the slaughterhouse if it knew what would happen there. Despite being good at confrontations, she didn’t enjoy them. At her core, she was simply too emotional and too short-tempered. As a result, she tended to rely on intimidation first. For the world-famous Minu Groves, intimidation worked more often than not. Except when it came to her boss.

  “You’re making demands again?” Jacob reclined in his plush office chair, regarding her. He’d been First Among the Chosen for more than a decade, and his appreciation for Minu had not grown one bit in all those years.

  His lean build had not softened in his late thirties, unlike many men’s; the Chosen lifestyle did not lend itself to sedentary decline. The only real signs of the passing years were the occasional gray in his neatly cut, dark brown hair and the worry lines around his brown eyes.

  “Demands? No, requests.” He cocked an eyebrow, and she sighed. “Please consider this?”

  A hint of a smile crossed Jacob’s face when she softened her approach. “I have emails here from a dozen sources supporting your request, not the least of which are those from Dram and Gregg. What I don’t understand is why, when you want something, every other department has to suffer to accommodate you.”

  “You make it sound a lot worse than it is.”

  “Would you like to hear a few dozen examples?” she asked.

  “Not necessarily.”

  “So you concede my point.” Minu shrugged. “This list of Chosen is really that important to the Rangers?”

  “We believe so.”

  “Meaning, you believe so.”

  “No. Gregg and Cherise are in complete agreement.”

  Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “How much does the opinion of a three-star logistics Chosen figure into this decision?”

  “She’s the best logistics expert the Chosen have. If she wasn’t so good at logistics, she would have been a Scout. But you know that. I used her as a consultant when forming the Rangers a dozen times.”

  “That is neither here nor there. I’m sure you could produce a recommendation from your husband too, if you thought it would help.”

  “My husband is no longer a Chosen, and I would appreciate it if you left him out of this discussion, especially since it was you who had him removed from the Corps.”

  “That was the council’s decision.”

  “Oh, kloth shit.” Jacob’s expression turned to ice. “You beat the council members over their heads about that decision.”

  “You have no proof.”

  “Pip.”

  “Different situation,” he said and looked down.

  Minu dropped the discussion, knowing she’d made her point, even if the way she’d gone about it left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Can we come to an agreement on a transfer for the Chosen I’m requesting?”

  “I think that is possible.”

  Minu was instantly suspicious. Jacob never gave in that easily, especially when the decision would negatively affect her. “Just like that?”

  “Sure, just like that.” She nodded and started to stand. “If you can do me one little favor.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said I’d naturally do the First Among the Chosen a favor.” This time he nodded and smiled. “As long as it is within my power.”

  “I need a recon done on a world.”

  “With all due respect, First, I haven’t done that sort of work in years. I don’t even have an official team anymore.”

  “I know that.”

  “I’m sure there are a dozen scout teams that could handle that request.”

  “There are, if we had a way to get to the world through the Portal network.”

  “Oh.” Minu understood now. “Can’t you ask Lilith to do the recon for you? She is Chosen, after all.”

  Minu’s daughter had been granted five gol
d stars in the Command branch upon her arrival at Bellatrix. The council hoped it would make her easier to control. Unfortunately, Lilith was all but uncontrollable, even by her mother. Jacob had tried to take the Kaatan-class starship away from her, and he nearly paid with his life. The Kaatan and Lilith were as close to one as a machine and a human could become.

  “She does not want to fulfill my request.”

  Minu lifted an eyebrow, and Jacob shrugged. “Did she give a reason?”

  “She said she is not allowed.”

  “By whom.”

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t be forced to ask you for this favor.”

  “Okay, I’ll ask her. But you need to understand she won’t listen to me, either.”

  “Even though she’s your daughter?”

  “Yes. She is her own woman and has been since she was ten subjective years old.”

  “Like mother, like daughter?” Minu looked for an insult in his words, but instead found grudging admiration.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jacob nodded, then shook his head. “I’ll give you this. You are the toughest bitch I’ve ever known.”

  Minu smiled a predator’s smile.

  “Your father would be proud.”

  “Thank you, sir.” And she meant it. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Then I will approve the transfer.”

  His mood was so good, Minu couldn’t resist. “Now I have something to tell you.”

  “I can hardly wait!” His laughter was genuine.

  “I’m going to need a few months off.”

  “You have a shitload of accumulated leave. May I ask why?”

  “Certainly. I’m pregnant.”

  She’d gotten him, and she knew it. “Are you serious? Really? How did that happen?”

  “I assume a grown man like you would understand the basic process.”

  He turned a little red, then broke into a grin and laughed. “Lilith gets a little brother or sister? Well, congratulations to you and Aaron! And may the fates help us all, if this kid is half as precocious as your first.”

  Minu stopped outside Jacob’s office and quickly sent a text message to Cherise about the approved personnel transfers. Just as she put away her Kaatan tablet, the little implant behind her ear chirped.

 

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