Fuck. One of those scoop jellyfish lay a few klicks ahead. Morgan flipped the lander over in a slow roll, and snared a piece of space junk with the ship's grapples.
Ravindra smiled, giving her an approving look. "Clever."
The scoop came on.
Nerves jangled in Morgan's gut. If there were eyes to see, all the whizzbang electronics she'd rigged wouldn't be worth a pinch of shit. The thing came closer, two wide wings of jelly. It flicked away anything but the blue gloop. Her fingers twitched on the armrest. Just a short burst and they'd be out of its way.
Ravindra's hand closed over hers. "Patience."
The shuttle and its piece of junk were flicked aside, rotating slowly, while the scooper ship glided past.
Morgan sank back in the seat. "One down."
He gripped her arm. "Don't release the grapple."
She had been intending to. "Why?"
"We can ride it down. The lander can deflect the heat, can't it?"
"I guess. To an extent."
"It will be enough. You can break away later, another piece of space junk disintegrating. It will help to hide us from visual surveillance."
Good idea. For an admiral, he was quite good at tactics. All Morgan had to do now was maneuver the lander and its cargo into the atmosphere without it looking like a maneuver. And do it soon, before the mother ship reappeared. She balanced the thrusters, a little here, a little there, easing the ship into place. Just a little bit more.
The lander and its piece of junk accelerated slowly, diving into the planet's gravity well. Ushas lay below them, but through the top of the ship. Morgan kept an eye on the sensors on the ship's base in particular, where the grapples held the section of wreckage. Temperature rising. Speed increasing. The shields protected the lander's carbon alloy hull. The ship shuddered, bouncing them around in their seats. On the screen, the rear sensor showed a streak of heat. Anybody watching from below or above would see just another hunk of junk burning up as it plunged.
When the heat sensors pinged a warning, Morgan let go, and rolled the lander over, leaving the space junk to streak on across the sky, trailing fire in its wake. The temple should be over to the right. She deployed the wings, and curved the ship around.
"Doesn't look good," Ravindra said.
No, it sure didn't. Black smoke coiled up from the island mountain, disappearing into the low cloud that obliterated the sun. The white tower was gone. Pieces of masonry which had stood for thousands of years now lay scattered, with only a few jagged tops like so many broken teeth. Wreckage tossed in the waves smashing on the cliffs. Morgan swallowed down bile. Bodies floated down there, too. A few boats seemed to be at work collecting bodies or maybe refugees. A larger vessel pulled out from where the island's main dock was situated.
"Do you think they've landed?" Ravindra was looking at the temple on the display.
Morgan shook her head. "Seems like overhead damage to me, bombardment from space. There's no sign of strange landing ships." She wondered what they looked like, these aliens with their gelatinous-looking ships.
"No, don't slow down, Morgan." Ravindra's voice snapped her back to where she was. "We can't set down there. Too much traffic, too many people. Plan B."
"Srimana."
They'd talked about it. If they couldn't, for whatever reason, land on the water by the temple, they would go straight to the island where the lab was hidden beneath the rock. She glanced at him, noting the tense lips, the hard planes of his face. The move was more dangerous, because they had a set amount of air to get in, do what was necessary, and get out. Morgan didn't like the idea much, neither did her jittering nerves, but you did what you had to do. Bringing the ship down to almost sea level, she headed away, toward the lab island.
The target island appeared to be deserted. Morgan zoomed around the island to make sure, then fired the forward thrusters, slowing the vehicle to idle speed. Waves surged beneath them, rising bulk into a curve that crashed on the cliffs. They wouldn't be able to get too close. She found a place as close to the island as she could and let the ship settle into the water, as deep as the bottom of its wings, tossing in the swell, just another piece of flotsam.
Ravindra turned to retrieve the air packs, enough for four hours, and the jetpacks they'd rigged up. The lander was programmed to stay within a small radius of this point, able to drift, but never too far. Time to go. Morgan released the canopy, and slid it back. Sea air filled the cabin, moist and salty, and tasting of smoke. Two klicks away the waves boomed onto the rocks, while wavelets slapping on the hull provided a counterpoint. She clambered up onto the hull, and reached down for the jetpacks. Ravindra climbed up beside her. The canopy slid back into place. With her jetpack buckled on, she shared a last look with Ravindra. What was there to say? In unison, they deployed the helmets folded into the backs of the suits into place over their heads, and turned on the air.
Four hours.
Chapter 34
Ravindra fought the surge of panic rising from his gut as he sank down into the water. The sky was a receding circle of brightness above him. Keep your breathing even. Don't hyperventilate. It's just like space, except with pressure.
Around him streaks of sunlight drove down into the depths like lances. Given the lowering, smoky clouds in the sky, he was amazed that any light managed to get through. A few curious fish swam past him, and flicked away into the gloom when he lifted his hand.
"Okay?" Morgan eyed him from behind the curved face plate.
"I'm all right. Which way?"
They were still sinking, going deeper and deeper. Morgan flicked on the jetpack on her waist, angling the propulsion toward her feet. She moved away from him. "Coming?"
He followed her lead. Jetpack switched on, nozzles angled down. In space the burst of power would have kept him moving for… ever. Here, the jets would have to work harder. He accelerated enough to catch up with her. "How long will the jetpacks last?"
"At half power, long enough. I hope."
"That's not encouraging."
"The current is stronger than I'd expected."
Nothing to be done but get the job finished. They moved through the water, well above the sea floor, and well below the surface. Keeping his body at the right angle, without going up or too far down, was harder than he would have imagined. Something moved out there in the gloom, something big. His heart galloped, remembering the huge beast they'd encountered last time they were here. Morgan's gasp of fright was almost soothing. It wasn't just him.
The shadowy shape resolved into a shoal of fish, the biggest as long as his forearm. He relaxed. Morgan didn't. She pushed nearer to him, "Quick," she snapped, accelerating a little. He responded without question. Something else sped past his feet and disappeared after the shoal.
Morgan slowed down again. "Hunters following the hunted."
Of course. It happened in the mountains, too. If you saw a herd of tip horns running, you looked for the cause. "How much further?"
"We should reach the wall soon. Then the tunnel entrance should be nearby."
The darkness ahead seemed darker. A little further on, Ravindra switched off the jetpack, and turned on his helmet lamp to reveal rock covered in reddish growth. He put out a gloved hand. Now if this was like last time, a cardoplast's nest was around here somewhere. The triple rows of teeth were etched in his memory.
Morgan had turned on her lamp, too, gazing along the rocks. She hung in the water, just as she would have done if this was space. "Here. This is the arch."
He swam over to her, kicking his legs for the short journey.
"Right. Ready? The cardoplast is down there. You can't see it, but I can. And it knows we're here."
His pulse bounded. "Oh, good."
"We go in as soon as the gap is large enough. Okay?"
"Okay." Just… make it happen. The thought of the creature, invisible in the depths, had his heart hammering.
The gate moved. Silt drifted into the water.
"It's not easy," Morgan mu
ttered. "I think it's damaged."
The gap widened. Up close like this, he could understand why the cardoplast might mistake this for a mouth. All it needed was the teeth.
"Fuck. The cardoplast's coming."
Morgan had hold of the metal lip, trying to ease herself inside. He joined her, imagining the great teeth closing on his legs. One more wriggle and they were in the tunnel.
"Hurry," she said.
He felt like a junior recruit, but he obeyed, motoring up the tunnel as fast as the jets would take him. A boom crashed into his eardrums, moments before the water surged, tossing him around. Something hit his shoulder, and glanced off. His heart hammering, he increased the jetpack's propulsion to maximum. If they ran out of power, that was one thing, but being trapped under a fallen roof was unthinkable. Rocks fell around him, on him. Debris rose like an evil mist, threatening to shut down the light from his helmet. Don't think. Just do.
Morgan glided to a halt, and turned. He joined her, the light of their helmet lamps picking out a mountain of rubble through the swirling, floating debris. Bile churned in his gut. He forced it down. One of the first lessons a recruit learned was, don't be sick in your helmet. He'd been proud of himself for being one of the few not to throw up at the academy, when they'd confronted the new boys with fresh, very dead bodies. That was a long time ago.
"Looks like we'll have to find another way out." Gazing at him, she pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth. "Okay, Admiral?"
"Proceed, madam," he said with mock solemnity. "We have a job to do." In a lab filled with CO2.
They moved through the tunnel on half power. If crossing the open sea had been scary, this was the difference between a dream, and a nightmare. Fanciful it might have been, but he felt like he was swimming up an artery in some gigantic body, or maybe a sewer. That might be better. He couldn't wait to reach the dock where they'd left the sub.
He almost cried with relief when the tunnel's roof and walls suddenly disappeared.
"We're in the docking bay," Morgan said.
Obviously. He didn't bother to answer. She was only showing concern. "So the lifts are that way?" He pointed.
"Yep."
Ravindra remembered the long stone dock, the drowned buildings. And there was the lift well. They swam up the same way they had before, until they surfaced with the doors above their heads.
"Let's hope it opens," Morgan said.
Let's hope indeed. If it didn't. No. Don't even think about it until you have to.
The door opened. Morgan crowed with delight.
He swarmed up the lift cable and swung himself into the darkness. Lights flickered on as he removed the jetpack. They might need it later, but not for now. He let a rope down to Morgan, and helped her up. She dropped her jetpack and gazed around her.
"Yep. Full of carbon dioxide. At least we have plenty of air. More than three hours."
"All we need is a way out."
"Let's get this done first. Can you hear the hum?"
Now she mentioned it, he could, just on the edge of his hearing. The sound grew as they walked through the apartment to the laboratory. Flashes of light flared and flickered, mainly red. It couldn't be fire, not a normal one, anyway.
The console was lit up like an advertising sign. Morgan walked over, and examined the array of buttons and gauges. Several red lights blinked on and off above gauges reading maximum plus. He'd never seen her perplexed before. She chewed on her lip, looking but not touching. What might be happening inside her head he had no idea.
Muttering to herself, she tried to finger her chin, but her hand hit the helmet.
"What, Morgan?"
Her head snapped around as if she'd only just remembered he was there. "Resonance. This thing is sending out a very low frequency signal. What you can hear is the top of the range." The tiny missile she'd built to destroy the model ship out there wherever it was lay in her hand. "So I put this in there, and then I send it where the little ship went."
"Mmm. It bothers me, though," he said.
She raised her eyebrows. "As in?"
"We don't know what's there, and we don't know what, if anything, we'll be destroying. A portal, maybe, or a rift, or who knows what. Is there any way we can find out?"
"Oh, a bit of Supertech magic?" Pulling her long-suffering face, Morgan waved the hand holding the missile. "Simsalabim." She shrugged. "Let me see."
She turned back to the console, adopting that still pose which meant she was in her 'machine' mode. When she turned around again, a quizzical half-smile lingered around her lips. "Maybe."
Ravindra jerked his head, giving her permission to speak.
"This is a directional signal. I think I can read where that signal is going." She turned and pointed to a row of dials. "These haven't moved. They are a set of coordinates."
It was a start, but only a start. "Can you translate that into something we can understand?"
"As it happens, yes. Partridge's grandmother's notes. Remember them? They contained some star charts, constellations visible from here, and there were coordinates like these written beside them." She was grinning.
"Ah. Known values."
"Yep. I expect they were messing about, trying to decide on a good location for their grand experiment."
"So we can find this place? Where the model ship is?"
"I reckon we can."
Oh, she was wonderful. "It sounds good, but space is a very big place, and a model ship is a very small object. Will it have moved from those coordinates?"
She considered for a moment. "I doubt it. Let's just say if this was my setup, I'd be wanting to bring the model home so I wouldn't want it to move."
"So we leave this running?"
Morgan tried to run a hand though her hair and scowled when her hand hit the helmet. "I'm not sure."
"What are you thinking?"
"This is a directional signal. Our alien friends might have followed it down here. What happens if I turn it off? Are they trapped, can't get back?"
"In that case, with enough firepower, we can destroy one ship. We don't want more of them."
"No."
"Destroy it, Morgan."
She winced. "I'd rather just switch it off. I'd like a much more detailed look at this technology. Too often we destroy what we don't understand. Why don't I just turn off the power source?" She started rummaging around the unit.
Ravindra wondered where the exit to this place was. If there was one, other than the dock. At the very least there would have to be some source of ventilation to let air in, and heat out. Even if they had been blocked for the fire emergency. They would just have to hope the ventilation shafts were wide enough for people.
He gazed up at the solid rock, letting his helmet lamp play over the surface. This place had been a natural cave but the marks of stone cutters were evident, shallow grooves in parallel lines smoothing out the contours. What was that? Straight edges, like a box, up in the left hand corner. It looked like a grid. Hope soared.
Something else had changed, something subtle. The hum had gone, replaced with the sound of his own breathing. "You've switched it off?"
"Yes. Have you seen something?" Morgan asked, coming to join him.
"Yes. What's that?" Ravindra pointed at the corner in the ceiling.
"Excellent. That looks promising. A metal grid, I'd say, but closed off behind."
"There's no layout diagram for this place?"
She shook her head. "Not an obvious one. But of course, I can't read their systems." Regret shone in her eyes as she gazed back at the console. "It'll be interesting to learn about everything in here."
"Right now, I'm more interested in getting out. Can you open that vent?"
"System-wise? No. But we could blow it out if we can get some explosive up there. Then we have to get us up there. And hope we can get out."
He smiled at her. "Don't be so pessimistic. It doesn't suit you. How much explosive do you think it would need?"
She wag
gled her hand. "Hard to tell without looking at it, knowing what's there. We don't what to bring it down."
She didn't say the rest. Trapped at both ends. Not a good idea. So. Get up there and look.
"You could use the grapple gun," she said.
Ravindra unslung the weapon, examined the short barbs designed to hook around a projection. "No. It isn't going to work. It needs something to grip, and with the vent blocked…" He lifted a shoulder.
Morgan frowned.
What else could he do? "What about the jetpacks?" he asked. "Would they operate in here?"
She raised her eyebrows. "I can't see why not. You mean for getting up there?"
"Yes. If I can use the jetpack to get me up there, I can see what I can do with this." Ravindra unclipped the laser cutter. "Better stand aside."
Her eyes widened but all Morgan said as she stepped away was, "Be careful, and be quick. The jetpack wasn't designed to support weight. It won't last more than a few minutes at most."
Applying the throttle gently, he lifted off the floor. Wrong angle. Juggling the jets he rose higher, aiming for the corner. Timing was the thing now. With his right hand he swung the laser-lance, slicing through the vent's bars like butter. The jets spluttered before he could set the corplast, lowering him to the floor.
Morgan sighed, and went to fetch the second jetpack. "I hope we won't have to do any more swimming," she said, handing him the device.
This time, the ascent was easier. As he reached the level of the vent, he let go of the left hand control and readied the corplast. The jetpack would slew sideways, he knew. With one swift thrust he shoved the explosive into the hole. Done. As the jetpack slipped, he grabbed the controls again. His body jolted up, causing his helmet to bounce on the ceiling, then the jets shut down. He flexed his body as he fell, ready to roll as soon as his feet hit the ground. Taking the momentum on his shoulder, he ended up lying on his back, panting. He was getting far too old for this.
"Ashkar." Morgan rushed forward and knelt beside him. "Are you all right?"
He sat up. "Fine." His arms and shoulder throbbed but he'd live. "I've put in the corplast."
A moment later the explosion blew out the vent, sending it clattering to the floor in a cloud of debris.
Morgan's Return Page 28