Return to Dakistee

by Thomas DePrima

  "But I digress. The real reason I'm calling is to inform you that I've asked the Quartermaster transport McHenry to pick up Christa on Dakistee and bring her to Higgins so we can better discuss the situation on Dakistee. The Archeological Expedition Headquarters on Anthius has acceded to all her requests, but I'm hearing some disturbing reports that there's increasing hostility among the scientists that Space Command is responsible for disturbing all their dig site schedules and interrupting more important activities by placing unfair demands on their organization. It's important that we develop a strategy to quell the growing resentment and make them understand we have no desire to dictate the direction of their work, while stressing the importance of the current activity. Since Christa is the closest thing we have to an ambassador on Dakistee, I'd like her to take the lead in this effort.

  "Brian Holt, Rear Admiral, Upper Half, Base Commander, Higgins Space Command Base, message complete."

  Jenetta leaned back in her chair and thought about the situation for a few minutes before responding. It was Christa's mission and Jenetta naturally trusted her implicitly, so she wanted to avoid any hint of second-guessing her sister.

  "To Brian Holt, Rear Admiral, Upper Half, Base Commander, Higgins Space Command Base, from Admiral Jenetta Carver.

  "Hello Brian. It's always a pleasure to hear from you. I appreciate the assistance you're giving Christa on her mission. I know you understand the significance of this find and that we must do everything we can to gain access to the new facility, but I would be saddened if we created an atmosphere of anger or mistrust among the scientists and archeological personnel on Dakistee. I know Christa understands and agrees with this, so I'm sure she hasn't done anything contrary to our interests there if the action could have been avoided. There must be more to this than we're aware of. If you can learn who might be instigating the ill will, we might be able put a halt to it.

  "Jenetta Carver, Admiral, Commander of the Second Fleet and Military Governor of Regions Two and Three, at Quesann SCB Regional Headquarters, message complete."

  * * *

  As the SC Quartermaster transport McHenry established a stable position in orbit around Higgins Space Station, one of its flight bays opened and a shuttle emerged using its deuterium thrusters until far enough from the ship to engage its main engines. Christa had already received permission to enter an open bay in the giant docking collar that surrounded the station. As the shuttle lightly touched down just inside the bay using thruster power only, Christa engaged the magnetic skids and waited until the outer bay door had been closed and atmo in the air lock was reestablished. As the walls of the temporary airlock folded up and away from the shuttle, Christa used the shuttle's oh-gee engine to gently glide the shuttle across the hanger deck to an assigned docking space.

  It was well into the second watch aboard the station, so Christa and Lt. Carmoody first walked to the housing office and secured quarters so they wouldn't have to sleep in the shuttle, then walked to the officers' mess to grab a bit of dinner.

  They had been dining together for weeks, and Carmoody was always amused by the size of the food portions Christa consumed. When Jenetta's body was changing, she required great quantities of food to fuel the work her body was performing. By the time Christa and Eliza were cloned most of the changes had taken place and her appetite had slackened considerably, but it never fell into line with what other full-grown adult Terrans consumed. As clones, Christa and Eliza had inherited the need for increased food consumption and all three women ate like ravenous teenagers without ever putting on an extra ounce, much to the envy of fellow officers.

  "I wish I could eat like that," Carmoody voiced yet again, as she looked at Christa's overflowing tray while they walked to a table.

  "I used to get two trays like this and then a half dozen pieces of fruit to munch on later. Now this amount sustains me until breakfast unless I work out in the gym afterwards."

  "It was nice having use of the gym aboard the McHenry. I had grown tired of simply jogging around the perimeter of the facility at the dig site and, unlike the Marines stationed there, I've never been into weightlifting."

  "Yes, and it was wonderful to have some sparring partners for kickboxing. I'd gotten rusty since leaving the Hephaestus."

  "I enjoy exercising, but I don't think I'll ever develop a taste for kicking people in the head."

  "In our line of work, it can come in handy. I wouldn't be here now if Jenetta hadn't practiced religiously before I was born."

  "I don't know if I could talk about my birth the way you do if I was cloned."

  "Some people are uncomfortable with it, but most people accept it without a problem. It's not like Space Command is turning out clones every day; it was simply a fluke. But it was a fluke that we must ensure doesn't happen again, which is why getting into the newly discovered facility is so important. If there's cloning equipment there, we can't allow it to be activated."

  "What if it's something else?"

  "Such as?"

  "I don't know. Perhaps a weapons research facility."

  "Then we'll quietly remove all illegal materials before we allow the scientists to enter. They won't be happy about that, but we have no choice. Hey, what say we do a little shopping before we turn in? The concourse stores are open for another two hours."

  "I'd love it. I haven't been shopping in over a year. The Heisenberg has been operating so far off the normal space lanes that we've never gotten closer than twenty light-years to a base since leaving Earth."

  "Great, I need a few things."

  * * *

  Christa arrived for her appointment with Admiral Holt a few minutes before 0900 the following morning and was surprised when the admiral's aide told her to go right in. She walked down the short corridor to the Admiral's inner office and stopped a few paces short of the doors to straighten her tunic. When she was sure her uniform was perfect, she stepped into the sensor area that would activate the two doors. Walking directly to where Admiral Holt was working, she stopped one meter short of his desk and braced to attention.

  "Lt. Commander Christa Carver, reporting to the Admiral as ordered," she announced.

  Admiral Holt looked up from his com screen, smiled, and said, "At ease, Commander and welcome to Higgins. You're looking well. It's been awhile since you were last here."

  "Yes, sir. The last time I was here you administered the oath of citizenship to Eliza and myself, and commissioned us as Space Command ensigns."

  "I remember it well. And now you're a senior officer commanding a mission on Dakistee. How time flies."

  "Well, it has been fifteen years, sir."

  Admiral Holt stood up and walked out from behind his desk. "Let's sit in my informal area to talk. Would you like a mug of Colombian?"

  "Yes sir. That would be wonderful."

  Admiral Holt smiled and gestured towards his beverage dispenser. "Help yourself, Commander."

  Christa moved to the dispenser, placed a mug under the spout and ordered her coffee. Before moving away she turned to where Admiral Holt had taken a seat in a large overstuffed chair and asked, "Anything for you, sir?"

  "I'm fine, Commander."

  Christa selected the oh-gee chair opposite the Admiral and sank into its comfort, careful not spill her coffee. She took a sip and then placed it on the table on her right as she waited for the Admiral to begin.

  "I've been in communication with Jenetta," he said at last. "I informed her of several persistent rumors on Dakistee that we're being too heavy handed. Have you had to pressure anyone there?"

  "No, sir. But I did have to appeal to Anthius when a local administrator refused to lend me a cylinder she was displaying on her desk. I explained that I needed it for my research and she informed me I would have to get permission from the Expeditionary HQ on Anthius. So I did. They might have been a little upset with her refusal to cooperate, so they apparently had her bring it to me personally. I suspect she was quite displeased for having to do that. Since then, I
've only submitted my requests through your office."

  "Please explain as completely as possible what it is you hope to achieve with these cylinders. I accept your statement that they're vital to your research, but I should know the complete story in case I need to defend our actions with the Admiralty Board or the GA Council."

  "Of course, sir." Christa spent the next hour explaining about finding the circles on the door, the symbols, the magnetic attraction of the cylinder made of Dakinium, and her speculations about what would be required to unlock the mechanism that was keeping the door from opening. Admiral Holt asked pertinent questions, which showed he clearly understood the line of thought Christa and Carmoody were following.

  "I see," Admiral Holt said when they had thoroughly discussed every aspect of the issue. "The fact that the cylinders are made of Dakinium means we won't be able to return them to Expedition Headquarters unless and until it becomes legal for people to own the material. Since its discovery, it's been listed as a controlled distribution substance. Have you told anyone else of your speculation about the composition of the cylinders?"

  "My assistant, Lt. Carmoody, is the only one I've informed directly. The scientists at the site were in the lab when I tested the cylinder with the X-ray equipment, but I couldn't exclude them since it was their lab and their equipment I was using. They might suspect the piece is Dakinium, but I never discussed it with them. I've allowed other people to assume the cylinders are merely a solid piece of composite material and that their excellent condition is owed to being stored in vacuum containers for the past nineteen thousand, four hundred years. I've let them believe that my only interest is in the symbols engraved into the material. The fact that the symbols are engraved should make people assume the material isn't Dakinium since everyone believes it's impossible to mar its surface."

  "I have to say your hypothesis outlining the procedure for opening the door certainly sounds reasonable. But if it proves to be a false trail, where will you look next?"

  "At this time, I have no other avenues of investigation, Admiral. I'm pinning everything on this course of action. The evidence all points to the cylinders being key to accessing the facility. If I can't make it work, I don't know what I'll do next. But I believe more strongly every day that we're proceeding down the right path."

  "Okay, Christa, keep at it. I have every confidence in your ability. I'll run whatever inference is necessary at this end. Just get that door opened as quickly as possible. Once that happens, the importance of the find will hopefully make everything else fade into the background."

  "Yes, sir. Uh, Admiral, I only have a half squad of Marines, composed of two fire teams and a sergeant to guard the tunnel entrance 24/7. Right now it's adequate because the facility is inaccessible. But if I manage to open the facility, every scientist on the planet is going to want in. Half a squad may not be adequate to hold them back without using force and some of the curious could be seriously injured if it comes to that."

  Admiral Holt sighed. "I know. Manpower shortages are making it increasingly difficult to keep a lid on things in this sector. I'll see if I can free up another couple of fire teams from somewhere else on the planet, but that's all I can promise. Besides, it can't be that difficult to hold back a group of scientists who spend their days brushing dirt off antiquities. It's not like they're trained as fighters. They'll probably faint or soil their underwear the first time a Marine yells at them to halt where they are."

  "I have no doubt that would be the case with some, but others might surprise you. Choice of occupation is not always a good indicator of intestinal fortitude. I was once just an astrophysicist."

  Admiral Holt smiled. "I recall Jenetta saying she was just a mere Ensign. I told her she was an Ensign, but never 'mere.' I doubt there's anyone on Dakistee who can measure up to you or your sisters, but I'll keep what you say about the others in mind as we move forward on this project.

  * * *

  Before boarding the Quartermaster transport Ferdinand for the thirty-hour trip back to Dakistee, Christa and Carmoody spent two more days on Higgins, shopping and enjoying the other available amenities such as the fine restaurants in the civilian areas of the station. Their one visit to Gregory's was disappointing. With Gregory now operating the finest restaurant on Stewart SCB, the one on Higgins was suffering badly in the hands of his brother-in-law. The service was poor and the food bland. There was no difficulty getting a table at dinnertime as there were no waiting patrons. The other restaurants on the concourse were crowded at that hour, so the quality had obviously been slipping for a while.

  The two women would have liked to stay on the station for a few more days since there was no rush to return to Dakistee, but there wouldn't be another Light-9790-capable transport headed in the general direction of Dakistee for many weeks. Without the advanced speed capability provided by Dakinium sheathing, the trip would require a full month aboard a warship.

  * * *

  Chapter Seven

  ~ August 24th, 2285 ~

  "I've found it!" wafted across the dig area. Most work stopped immediately as laborers near enough to hear the muffled words stood up and scanned the dig site in an effort to determine who had shouted.

  When the same voice shrieked, "It's down here!" people were able to identify the direction of the words.

  Within seconds, a dozen dig site labors were scrambling toward the hole from which the excited shouts seemed to have emanated. The first laborer to arrive peered cautiously over the berm of dirt, then almost immediately disappeared from view as he moved forward and slid head first into the cavity. Upon reaching the excavation, other laborers belly flopped onto the raised dirt berm to observe the activity. Excitement had begun to wash through the camp like a tsunami and everyone dropped whatever they were doing to race towards the excavation.

  The site director pushed his way through the growing throng and peered down into the five-meter by five-meter hole where two laborers were struggling to free a tarnished cylindrical object. If it was the canister they were seeking, only the very top was showing, but the built-in handle allowed the laborers to tug on the cylinder with all their strength.

  "Druzkil," Dr. Edolis said, "did you find it or not?"

  The pair stopped what they were doing and looked up. The one who had unearthed the object said, "I think so, Doctor Edolis. It certainly looks like the top of the vacuum canister we've been told to hunt for. But it seems to be hung up on something."

  "Remember, the buildings here collapsed from age. It could be almost anything. Clear the area around the canister instead of trying to muscle it out."

  "Yes, Doctor."

  As the two laborers resumed their activity, Edolis sighed silently. He would have preferred to have skilled people doing the excavations, but he was under extreme pressure to find the canister as quickly as possible so he was forced to use all available resources. Even now, when trained people were available to take over the excavation, he had to let the laborers continue at their task. The trained workers would resist a quick removal and would probably take several days to carefully extricate the canister lest they damage other relics in the immediate area. The laborers only had their eyes on the bonuses promised for a speedy recovery.

  Despite an intensive effort that ignored possible damage to other relics, it still took another hour to raise the prize. Two large sections of rock, presumably decorative wall sections from the collapsed building, had pinned it solidly in place until an oh-gee crane was brought in to remove the wall rubble.

  "At last," Dr. Edolis said as he held the canister in his hands. Turning to address the gathering he said loudly, "Clean your digging tools and store them properly, then take the rest of the day off. The next two days will be paid leave for everyone except food service and other support personnel."

  A cheer erupted and everyone raced back to where they had been working so they could wrap up for the day.

  "Is that it, doctor?" Edolis' assistant asked, pointing to the canister
.

  "I believe so, William. I don't want to open it out here to check the contents. Let's take it back to my shelter where we can clean the cylinder first and then examine the contents away from prying eyes."

  The canister wasn't really that heavy, but at one hundred twenty-six years, Dr. Edolis no longer had the strength required to carry it all the way back to his shelter. His assistant, just eighty-three years young on his last birthday, was able to handle the sixty-pound container alone and insisted upon doing just that to prevent Edolis from straining himself.

  Once in the shelter, Edolis and his assistant washed the canister carefully, then spent the better part of an hour trying to open it. In the end, they had to admit the container had been slightly bent out of round by the weight of the wall sections between which it had been wedged. It wasn't grossly damaged— just enough so that the lid wouldn't unscrew, but that prevented it from being opened. Dr. Edolis finally sent for the labor supervisor, who happened to be one of the last people in the camp, everyone else having washed up and left for town as soon as they could.

  "You see the problem, Josef?" Dr. Edolis asked. "The top won't unscrew."

  "Yes, Doctor. I see the problem. It's out of round and will never open easily. We'll have to force it. I'll have to get a torch and a few tools. I'll be right back."

  Twenty minutes later, Josef returned with the tools he would need to open the canister. He ignited the torch and began applying a low heat evenly around the top, hoping heat expansion would be enough to overcome the slight deformity.