by Scott Rhine
“It’s ceremonial, the symbol of my authority in the assembly. The blade has been blunted so it barely cuts hide. Unless you shove it through a brainstem, we can heal any damage from it in a regen tank.”
The light over the inner door remained red. Reluctantly, Reuben added his media ball to the cache and pocketed the key. The indicator turned green.
“I feel naked,” whispered Reuben as they approached the Teller window.
I still have my teeth and claws. “Just don’t shed,” Kesh said. Nervous Goats sometimes lost gobs of hair, a trait that disgusted the cold-bloods. The fur could clog air filters.
The Teller pointed to a private room with no windows. “Viewing-room one awaits you. Your message has been loaded onto the desk inside.”
The room was a cube, three meters per side. When Reuben pushed the button to seal them in, he whispered, “I don’t know why I bother. They already know everything in the message. I’m sure Bankers read everyone’s mail.”
“This is so no one else can eavesdrop.” Kesh tapped the gray wall next to the desk. “EM shielding.” He sat on the bench in front of the desk and authenticated the transmission’s signature. When it checked out, he paid for the data packet. All the candidates had submitted answers.
Before he could open the first response, a rumble shook the ground, and the lights flickered. He quickly loaded the data onto his pad for later retrieval. “Time to go.”
The door refused to slide open for Kesh.
Pushing him aside, Reuben poked the exact same spot. No response. He tried the Teller button. “Let us out of here.”
“I apologize. Due to war-era protocols, the entire complex has been locked down.”
“What happened?”
“An explosion.”
Frantic, Reuben said, “Those are our friends.”
“Then the authorities will want to speak with you.”
“Let us go! We have to help.”
“I’m afraid the corridors outside aren’t safe. Insurance regulations require we ensure your safety until the situation is resolved.”
“We’ll sign waivers,” Reuben insisted.
“Diplomatic officers advise me not to take that risk.”
Reuben punched the glass covering on the controls with no effect. “If you know who I am, then you know I have the power to override the shutdown.”
The Teller remained silent.
Stepping to the side, Reuben said, “Your turn.”
Kesh slid the desk against the door and climbed on top. With a shout, he smashed the panel with his tail. Using a claw, he cut through the thin layer of air seal to expose the wiring beneath. “Be my guest.” He crouched under the desk in case bank defenses kicked in.
The Goat pulled out a pair of wire strippers and cut two leads. When he twisted the pair together, they sparked. He slid the disabled door aside. Over his comm unit, he called, “We’re being held against our will in the bank. How’s Daisy?”
Through static, Max replied, “Nonresponsive. She took off her helmet for a better look, and blam, the observation bubble cracked. The whole section has been sealed, but the control-room air pressure is dropping steadily.”
“Why hasn’t Menelaus pulled her out?”
“She’d be dead already if he hadn’t plugged the hole with his ass.”
“That’s using his … head.”
“It slowed things down. If he moves, the remaining air might rush out before he can reach her.”
“How long do we have?”
Max talked to someone in the background. “Maybe fifteen minutes. Frost is forming on the camera lenses. He used his suit-repair kit on several pinholes, but the main one was too big.”
He was supposed to carry a glop grenade like I do!
Kesh left the channel connected while the drama in the bank unfolded, so his team could stay informed.
Reuben strode toward the teller box. “Open the front doors.”
The short being on the other side of the thick window smirked. “Or what? You can’t breach this armor.”
“My friend is dying.”
The Teller shrugged. “I’m not a citizen. Why should I care?”
Reuben roared in frustration and slammed against the front door. His shoulder crumpled, and a gash on his scalp began to bleed.
“Watch the goggles!” Kesh warned, ducking behind the desk.
“Please. You’re going to ruin the carpet,” the Teller said.
With a crazed gleam in his eye, Reuben rolled his injury on the floor. “Then you’d better open up.”
“We’ll sue.”
Reuben slowly wrote the first letter of an obscenity in his own blood. “It’ll take months for new carpet to arrive, and none of my people will change it out for you unless I say so.”
The Teller’s composure began to crack. “What can you offer in exchange for my aid? We’ll lose a great deal of air if you leave now. My master won’t be pleased.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Grant our delegation rights to inspect Deep 6 and escort the ship until it reaches the academy.”
In answer, Reuben painted the second letter.
A ceiling panel retracted, and a gun turret dropped into view. “Under the uniform civil code, I have the right to stun you to prevent vandalism and extortion.”
Kesh tipped the desk over so it could fit through the door.
“That would be an act of war,” Reuben declared. “You wouldn’t dare.”
The muzzle swerved toward him.
Desperate, Kesh pushed his large shield into the hallway.
“Activate defensive screens!” Reuben shouted over the radio link to his media ball.
The locker blew apart. If the robot ball could fly close enough to him, the field might dampen the Banker weapon’s effects.
The turret fired an electrical burst. Reuben collapsed in pain.
“Deactivate your drone.”
Reuben muttered a command, and the force field vanished.
“Stay prone until police arrive, or I’ll repeat your lesson.”
Kesh slid the desk slowly down the hall in an attempt to join his friend. When Reuben lifted his head to gauge the distance to safety, the turret administered another jolt.
“I said down!”
Reuben erupted into obscenities. “I’ll tell you what I’m offering.” He described exactly what he would do to the Teller’s mother on live television. “And she’ll beg for more.”
The weapon crackled a third time, with a little less force. However, Reuben lost the ability speak.
“Hold on,” said Kesh. “We can come to some sort of compromise. One Teller can inspect, and he gets off before we jump.”
“Two and an ansible. Plus we ride all the way to your destination. Otherwise, you pirates could sell the new engine to the highest bidder.”
Kesh grinned. “Provided you don’t impact our schedule and bring your own safety gear.”
“Done,” said the Teller. The magnetic door lock cycled with a click. “Your account will be billed for the repairs.”
Kesh picked up his companion. Over the helmet radio, he asked Max, “How far out are you?”
“The Magi shuttle is on the way. ETA six minutes. They wouldn’t let us come. Too dangerous.”
Grunting, he carried the dazed Goat down the hall. “I’m surprised they’d let us ride in their ship without a kennel.”
“You’ll stay in their airlock.”
Kesh snorted in derision.
Max replied, “Hey, everyone’s family is crazy.”
With a toothy smile, Kesh said, “Point made.”
“Lock Reuben somewhere safe before you and the locals try a rescue. At this rate, he’s likely to do something even stupider.”
Kesh didn’t want to know what that might entail. “With pleasure.”
14. Dry Run
Kesh dropped Reuben off at the nearest emergency shelter. Several burly construction types congregated around the airlock. He left c
lear instructions to guard the Ram until the Magi arrived. “Whatever you do, don’t touch his goggles.”
The roughnecks nodded.
Even though his legs and neck were aching from carrying his friend, Kesh ran toward the repair bay. At the airlock, an ancient goat in denim coveralls raised a hand to stop him. “I’m the chief engineer in this section. Ain’t safe.”
Kesh flashed his Goat government credentials. “Let me through. The Ram wants me to help with rescue efforts for the two victims.”
“Five victims, sir. Three workers got caught in a cave-in on the spinward branch. The other workers are installing support beams and pouring concrete into the leak. If the crack widens, we’re all in trouble. This door stays shut until the problem is repaired.”
“Right. I have an idea. Can I approach the observation room from the vacuum side?”
“If you’re in good enough shape.”
“Then we can patch the bubble.”
The gray-haired Goat asked, “With what?”
Kesh pulled out his glop grenade.
“Spendy. That would be mighty neighborly of you, but those are designed to work from the inside.”
“The foam can expand to two meters, which should slow the leak enough to get those people out.”
The gray fellow shook his head. “It needs oxygen to expand.”
“So just before we pull the pin, we open the leak wider and cup the grenade against the hole.”
“Directing the explosion would help a little—”
“Then help me do that. Hurry!”
With a sigh, the Goat replied, “Since you’re with the Ram, I’ll try.” He rummaged through his gear and handed Kesh a hemispheric suction cup the size of his forearm. Its bright color made it look like a giant fishing bobber. “I use this to hold my cutting tools. Trade me for a sec.”
Kesh swapped the grenade for the hollow dome.
The old guy unscrewed the fuse mechanism.
This nearly gave Kesh a heart attack. “Don’t drop it!”
Without dignifying the statement, the fellow turned his tiny screwdriver. “This should give you twenty seconds after you pull the pin.” The old Goat squinted as he reassembled the grenade. “Or is it eighteen? I forget with these new models. Anyway, plant it over the breach, twist clockwise, and skedaddle.”
Kesh didn’t know what the word meant, but he got the gist. He tucked the makeshift shaped charge under his good arm. “Thanks. Anyone coming with me?”
The gray Goat sucked his teeth. “Afraid not. A crew of four will be boring a new shaft to free the trapped men. Everyone else has been ordered to the shelters. After the last disaster this system had, safety is our highest priority.”
“I’ll do it myself,” he growled.
Backtracking to an exit onto the moon’s surface and humping cross-country was harder than he imagined. Gravity was so low that he couldn’t jump at will. He had to stay tethered to walkways, which meant following a great arc around the crater. I have to cut down on the carbonara sauce. Panting, he pulled up the map on his helmet display.
He called over the suit radio. “Deep 6, I’ll reach the bubble in two minutes. Don’t let the shuttle land there. Any vibration from thrusters could kill the people who are digging themselves out.”
“Roger,” Max said. “Escort will use LZ four and keep the engines hot.”
Soon, Kesh leapt down into the repair bay. He noted a significant blast crater beside the yacht. “Could’ve been worse. Good call on draining the fuel.”
Examining the observation bubble, he found himself staring at the Bat’s behind. A spiderweb of cracks spread from the site. If someone looked at it sideways, the dome might shatter. “Menelaus, I need you to listen closely. We need to time this just right. I’m going to stick a repair device over the hole. When I get to five, pull free and dive for Daisy. Put her helmet on as fast as possible.”
“Why?”
Otherwise, you’ll be glued to the dome. “Trust me.”
“Won’t the air escape?”
“I’m hoping the suction cup holds it for a few moments.”
“Um … the thumb and index finger on my right glove are fused because of the patch kit.”
“Use your left hand. That’s what I’ve been doing.” Kesh held the giant suction cup over the jagged hole. It covered 90 percent of the damage. Trust the old guy.
“Plant your feet and get ready to jump.” He pulled the grenade’s pin and tossed it under the hemispheric device. “One mammal meal ...” The suction mechanism didn’t want to latch in this cold. What would Max do? He’d pretend to be calm so the victims wouldn’t panic. “Three mammal meals …”
The second latch attempt failed as well. “Five mammal meals…”
“The hole isn’t pulling so hard. Did you fix it?”
The inrush of air from the room prevented any possible suction. I’m going to have to hold this in place. “Run!”
“My right leg’s numb.” The Bat limped away.
“Seven mammal meals… eight mammal meals…” Kesh scrambled to brace his shoulder against the device. His fingertips held onto a thin rim underneath the glass. His tail thrashed, trying to gain leverage against anything.
Around ten, the grenade burst. Gray foam erupted from the hole into the control room. At the same instant, Kesh rocketed backward into the landing gear. Dazed by the impact, he watched the glop inside crash like a wave over the dome. Tendrils races down the cracks like blood through veins. More of the foam pushed through the hole, making a fountain. Droplets floated lazily through the vacuum.
By fourteen, the glop was congealing, but a huge bubble of air bulged in the center threatening to explode. He prayed to his ancestors. Keshmandar, if you were ever good for anything in your self-absorbed, misogynistic life, hold that patch.
At twenty, the resin was frozen solid. Close enough for Goat work. He climbed to his feet and avoided the splattered patches.
Over the radio, Menelaus said, “Sweet. You timed that just right.” Rustling sounds made him difficult to hear. “There. Her helmet’s in place, and air is flowing.”
“Meet me at the emergency exit. We’ll carry her to the shuttle together.”
“I’m sorry I screwed up.”
“You did great. Just think of this as a dry run for the invasion. We know where our weaknesses are now.”
****
By the time Kesh returned to the shelter, Reuben had vanished. “Where’d he go?”
“We carried him to the infirmary,” replied one roughneck. “He was babbling. The doc said he might have a concussion. Told us to bring him right away.”
“Which way?”
He thought nothing of the order of events until he saw the thick walls of the infirmary module. Over the comms, he asked, “Deep 6, who owns the medical facilities on this moon?”
Max typed. “Not many Goats get sick, so they contracted out to … the Banker station network.”
Kesh punched the wall. “Maybe if I get there fast enough, they won’t know what they have.”
When he arrived in the waiting room, the short Teller was sitting on a chair reading. His luggage sat beside him. “Good afternoon. Is there room on the shuttle for me?”
“No.”
“Then there wouldn’t be room for the Black Ram either because he’s larger than me. It’s just as well. The doctor wanted to hold him overnight for observation. The shuttle can make another trip.”
Kesh clenched his teeth. “You’re holding him for ransom?”
“If you try to press charges, we’ll tell MI-23 you’re trying to leave Goat space with their precious leader. We could have an ansible warrant for your arrest in minutes.”
“It takes hours to get one of those things.”
The Teller smiled. “That’s the funny thing about being in control of communications for a civilization. People believe what you tell them. You made a bargain. Until you keep your end, we’ll hold your friend as collateral.”
Ke
sh tried reason. “Look. I meant what I said. We can give you a ride if you can provide your own Magi stasis unit. There’s no way to survive a jump without one.”
“You were going to renege?”
“I’ll honor the contract as made. We’re refueling for three days. If you can provide suitable life-support units, you’re welcome to come with.”
“If I were you, Mr. Kesh, I’d leave the station before that warrant arrives.”
On the brief trip back to the shuttle, Kesh asked Max, “What can we do?”
“I’ve checked Reuben’s medical records. If they’re accurate, he’ll need a day before he can run on his own. Fall back and regroup.”
“Live to fight another day?” The military expression tasted sour in Kesh’s mouth.
“Would it be so bad to leave Reuben with his own people? You may have noticed he isn’t the best at covert action.”
“He has the data on the fleet and the goggles of Xerxes. Besides, if the Bankers have their way, he may not recover from his tragic head wound.”
Max sighed. “It’ll take me a while to convince the Magi to let me mount a rescue expedition.”
“You’re wicked with that dart gun. Phibs throughout the Union fear your name. Why ask permission?”
“I’m part of a bonded triad now. If I die, Echo won’t make it to the academy. With both of us gone, I’m not sure how long Roz will last. If the Magi have to decide between their enlightened one and the ram, he has heirs.”
Kesh grumbled, “With that attitude, I’m surprised you came back for me.”
“Actually, I convinced them to come down to secure the yacht’s computer system. We needed to find the motivation for the fuel company.”
Damn elder races.
15. Escape from the Planet of the Goats
Kesh’s first action aboard the ship was to appoint Menelaus head warden for the Mimic preserve.
Flattered, the Bat said, “Because I did such a great job saving Daisy?”
“Because Goats don’t know shit about security.”
“What do I get? Two blasters and a bandolier of batteries?”
Realizing that finances didn’t motivate the tan-furred young adult, Kesh said, “A Samurai sword from Earth. My brother had one hanging on a wall because it was too long for him to carry on his hip. I paid for a back harness, but it still interfered with my tail. It’d be perfect for you.”