Return to Dakistee

by Thomas DePrima

  An hour later, Christa and Carmoody, supported by Staff Sgt. Burton and a fire team in their armor, descended to the Vault level. As the door opened, an angry Madu stood facing the two officers. Behind her were a dozen angry-looking Dakistians. Christa was glad the Marines behind her looked every bit as intimidating as the Dakistians.

  "It was you," Madu said to Christa, "wasn't it?"

  "If I knew what you were talking about, I could answer."

  "You somehow locked me out of the system. I couldn't awaken any more of my people, and I couldn't open the lift doors."

  "Guilty on both counts," Christa said. "I told you we would awaken all your people when the time was right. This isn't the time."

  "Why not?" Madu asked angrily. "You've seen that I awakened without any medical complications. And you said you ordered enough food for a thousand of my people. The Housing level can easily accommodate ten times that number."

  "Yes, you appear healthy and we have enough space and food for a thousand of your people, but there's one thing we don't have."

  "And what's that?"

  "We don’t have enough water for a thousand people."

  "Water has always been abundant on my planet. Twenty thousand years shouldn't have changed that. The vegetation looked lush when I was outside."

  "That's outside. We're inside and the water isn’t flowing in the pipes."

  "So send some people to fill water containers."

  "Um, that's not possible. Do you remember when all the medical people were suddenly called away last solar, giving you an opportunity to come down here?"

  "Of course."

  "They were called away because the dig site was attacked by an aerial fighter craft and then a ground assault. Dozens of people were killed and many were wounded. I had to seal the facility to keep them from getting in and continuing the carnage."

  "Who would attack us?"

  "I don’t know. All I know is that they made a formidable effort to kill everyone outside and apparently intended to continue those acts in here."

  "You're lying," Madu said. "This is some sort of trick to have me agree to suspend awakening more of my people."

  "You don't have to believe me. Come up to the Medical level."

  "This is another trick— to separate me from my people."

  "Bring as many as can fit into the lift. The doctors will want to check them all anyway."

  Madu looked at Christa intently for a few seconds without speaking. "No, I'll bring just ten. The others will wait for me down here." Turning to one of the men behind her, she said, "If I don't return shortly, you know what to do."

  A few minutes later, they entered the first ward on the Medical level. Madu was able to see with her own eyes that every bed contained a bandaged and ailing patient. Christa stopped at the bed containing Lt. Uronson. He was awake.

  "How are you feeling, Lieutenant?" Christa asked.

  "Better than yesterday, that's for sure, ma'am. The doc's got me loaded up with nano-bots. I don't know if it's the pain-killers or not, but I swear I can almost feel them patching me back together."

  Christa smiled. "Maybe it's a little of both."

  "How did we make out yesterday, ma'am? I was a little out of it."

  "You were the only military casualty. As you can see, a lot of civilians were injured, and I believe several dozen were killed. There are a lot missing, but we don't know how many escaped into the woods instead of coming to the facility. We probably won't have an accurate count until we can get out of here."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Don't worry about anything except getting well, Lieutenant. The facility is sealed so we're perfectly safe for now."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  As they walked through the ward, Christa said to Madu, "Satisfied?"

  Madu's eyes traveled over the prone bodies for a second before she said, "Yes. You were being truthful. I apologize— again."

  "Again?"

  "Each time I've doubted your word, I've found I was wrong for doing so."

  "I realize it takes time to build trust. In time, I have no doubt you'll trust me implicitly."

  "I've never trusted anyone implicitly."

  "Then perhaps I'll be the first," Christa said with a smile.

  While the doctors examined the newly awakened ancients, Madu, Christa, Carmoody and the Marines traveled back down to the Vault level.

  "How did you do it?" Madu asked Christa.

  "Do what?"

  "Block me from accessing the console in the Vault and the lift. Neither will obey any of my instructions."

  "I'm not an administrator."

  "What does that mean?"

  "You're adept at controlling people. I'm adept at controlling computers."

  "From what little I've seen, you seem adept at both."

  Christa smiled and said, "Spoken like a true administrator."

  Madu returned her smile and said, "This time I'm being ingenuous."

  Looking to change the subject, Christa said, "Do you have any engineers among the people you've awakened? We desperately need to get the water flowing. We can't last long with the meager supply we have, especially now that there are so many more of us."

  "None listed that as a profession. We can ask if anyone is knowledgeable. Of course, if I had access to the computer I could perform a search."

  "We'll see how things go."

  "Christa, I promise I won't awaken anyone else without your approval. I didn't understand the real issue at the time."

  "It goes beyond that, Madu. I promised you we would awaken everyone but according to a timetable that will allow for an orderly process. You choose to ignore my words."

  "Yes, and I regret my actions. I promise you I won't go against you again."

  We shall see, Christa thought as she smiled politely.

  * * *

  "Just what the hell is going on," Lt. Col. Diminjik said loudly to his senior staff. "There's no reason for these protest marches. The rioters have good jobs. They're well paid and they have great living accommodations. So why are they picketing the warehouses? Not a single one is even carrying a sign. It's as if even they don’t know why they're protesting. I need some answers."

  "I think you put your finger on it, sir," Marine Captain Verdeen said. "They don’t know why they're protesting."

  "What are you saying, Captain?"

  "One of my undercover people overheard two of the protestors talking in a bar last night. They were comparing notes on how much money they're being paid to march. Don't you see, sir? There's no real passion behind this movement. They're being paid to protest."

  "Paid? Somebody's paying them to protest? Who?"

  Verdeen shrugged. "Maybe some big corporation is looking to cash in on the security angle. If Anthius believes we can't protect the warehouses, they'll have to hire private security firms like Peabody."

  "That's fine with me. We shouldn't be guarding private warehouses anyway— even if they are non-profit. The GAC ordered us here because they feared bad publicity from Raider robberies. If they got off their keesters and finally set up a government on this planet, planetary security would become responsible for police activities and we could get back to our real job."

  "Since these protestors are doing it for the cash, it's doubtful any of the marches will turn violent. Shouldn't we send the extra personnel back to their regular duty assignments, sir? You said Carver was pretty upset about losing half her squad."

  "She still has half a squad. That's more than enough to guard a single entrance to an underground bunker. She acts like she's expecting a Raider attack like the one she experienced fifteen years ago. That was before we had a Marine presence on this planet. It could never happen now."

  * * *

  "Listen up," Wing Commander Deel 'Death Dealer' Fowler said as the entire air wing of the destroyer Hell Fire approached the planet from the blind side. The base at North Pendleton would not be able to detect their presence unless they flew outside the line-of-sight umb
ra.

  "You've all been briefed with every fact we know about the enemy, although the intelligence is sketchy at best. We know that that they have fighter aircraft operating from the old freighter. We don't know if the freighter has laser arrays or torpedoes, but just because you can't see them doesn't mean they ain't there. Our job is to take control of that freighter, leaving it intact enough to be space-worthy, although it's not necessary that it have an atmosphere inside. So don't target the engines. Just fill it full of holes and evacuate the air.

  "I realize everyone is a bit out of practice since the company stopped attacking ships in space, but it'll come back real quick to you veterans of the old days. You new guys stay alert and don't be lulled into thinking an old freighter can't put up a fight. Jenetta Carver killed two of our better warships with an old freighter because they were careless and assumed the old bucket didn't really present a threat."

  "Okay, there it is," he said as the freighter appeared on his DeTect monitor. "Squadron One, you'll take the larboard side, and Squadron Two will go to starboard. Let them breathe vacuum."

  * * *

  Vejrezzol was pulled away from his study of the Almuth by an urgent com message from Gxidescu. As captain of the Gastropod since the takeover, he was noticeably excited.

  "Your Excellency, a large number of small craft are approaching from the stern."

  "What kind of small craft?"

  "It can only be fighters, but we don't know where they came from. They just appeared on our DeTect screen."

  "Obviously they must have come from a ship in space. They must be Space Command. Sound the alert. Launch all fighters and man our laser arrays. This is our moment. God will protect us as we protect ourselves."

  "Yes, Excellency."

  Vejrezzol jumped up from the desk in his quarters and hurried towards the bridge.

  * * *

  As the Raider fighter wing approached the Gastropod, they were able see the sides of containers being opened and laser arrays being extended.

  "This is Death Dealer," Fowler said over the com. "They do have arrays. Scramble and show them how this game is played. Keep zigzagging until everyone in the main ship is dead."

  "Roger Death Dealer. Squadron One taking the larboard."

  "Squadron Two taking the starboard."

  If the attacking fighter squadrons had been able to simply make a straight run at the Gastropod, the fight would have lasted only minutes. But since the fighters weren't armored, they couldn't afford to take a serious hit from even a low-power laser array. By zigzagging, they never gave the dissident defenders a chance to get a target lock, but it also prevented them from effectively targeting the Gastropod's main section.

  As fighter after fighter passed the Gastropod and swung back for another pass, they strafed the main ship. Air was evacuating from hundreds of small holes by the time both squadrons had completed their first pass. Since they needed the main ship operational, they weren't permitted to use their rockets.

  The Raider force was about to make a second run when the Gastropod's fighter squadron showed up. The three fighters that hadn't been shot to pieces at Loudescott and one with a continuing power problem engaged the Raider ships, but they were seriously overmatched. They gave it their best, but they all died in the attempt to knock down at least one Raider attacker.

  With the way open, the Raider fighters again began making attack runs on the freighter. They still had to dodge the lasers and they kept a wary eye out for other fighters, but they were slowly making the main ship look like it was wrapped in Swiss cheese.

  * * *

  Alarms were sounding all over the Gastropod as anxious people who were already having difficulty breathing struggled into space suits. The space suits would save their lives, but they restricted movement to a barely acceptable level for the people who required free movement for fixing problems.

  "Get the ship moving," Vejrezzol screamed at Gxidescu. "We're a sitting target here and our gunners can't seem to hit anything."

  "Yes, Excellency," Gxidescu said, who then gave orders to the bridge crew.

  The ten-kilometer-long ship didn't have the power of a warship. It was designed neither for fast maneuvering nor for quick escapes. As it turned towards open space, the engines strained to move the enormous mass.

  * * *

  "What now, Commander?" the Squadron One leader asked.

  "Slow the attack but keep zigzagging. Their gunners haven't scored a single hit yet. If they start to build an envelope, target their generator to keep them at sub-light speeds. They just made our job ten times easier. By moving the ship away from the planet, we won’t have to worry about the Marines at North Pendleton coming up to investigate when we repair the ship later. We'll let them get far enough away and then continue our attack. We have plenty of time. The Hell Fire will close in when we need her."

  * * *

  "Status report," Vejrezzol said with some urgency. "What was that explosion?"

  "They knocked out the temporal field generator with rockets when we tried to build an FTL envelope," Gxidescu said. "We're limited to sub-light speeds."

  "Why haven't they attacked the ship with rockets before?"

  "They may not be looking to kill us. They probably only want us to yield."

  "Never," Vejrezzol screamed. "We will never surrender."

  "Yes, Excellency. But the ship is depressurizing and we can't patch the holes while we're under full power."

  "Have all non-essential personnel placed in stasis beds for their protection, then seal off the bridge section. All other oxygen reserves will be held for the EVA suits."

  "Yes, Excellency."

  "Why didn't the enemy simply approach with their ship and order us to yield if that's what they want?" Vejrezzol asked.

  "Perhaps they believed we would fight and thought this to be an easier solution."

  "But their ships are only fighters. They can't continue to follow us forever. They have limited fuel."

  "Their mother ship must be tailing us even though it doesn't show on the DeTect screens."

  "But they haven't even identified themselves yet. Are they Space Command or Nordakian Space Force?"

  "We don't know, Excellency. If they don't identify themselves, we may not know until they board us."

  "They won't board us!" Vejrezzol screamed. "We shall never surrender."

  "It may be our only option. The main ship can't achieve FTL now and we don’t have any tugs that can tow us FTL because we used the entire ship budget to procure the six fighters. The enemy can disable our sub-light engines any time they wish. What are we to do?"

  Standing, Vejrezzol said, "I shall pray for guidance. I won't believe God has deserted us. I shall be in my quarters."

  * * *

  "You're never going to believe this," Lt. Colonel Diminjik said to Major Garfield when he'd tracked him down. "I just received a message from Admiral Holt himself. He says that if I don't return those two fire teams to Commander Carver immediately, I'm going to be numeral uno on his shit list."

  "Not much ambiguity there. What are you going to do?"

  "I'm going to order you to send that damn half squad back to her, not that she needs them."

  "I'm on it. I'll have them on a MAT to Loudescott within the hour."

  "Make it thirty minutes if you can, Pete. I have enough problems. I don't need the deca-sector area commander on my ass as well."

  "Will do."

  * * *

  As the Marine Assault Transport arrived at Loudescott, the pilot called Sergeant Flegetti to the cockpit. When Flegetti arrived, he immediately noticed they were hovering three hundred meters AGL instead of setting down. MATs almost never hover because pilots are supposed to treat every LZ as hot.

  "Flegetti, sir," he said to the pilot. "You wanted to see me."

  "Any idea what's going on here Flegetti?"

  "What do you mean sir?"

  "Take a look down there." As Flegetti strained to see over the instrument panel,
the pilot said, "There's no activity down there— at all. The living shelters have all burnt to the ground and some are still smoldering. There are blast craters scattered over the entire site, and those objects sprawled everywhere sure look like bodies to me."

  "Yes, sir," Flegetti said somberly. "To me also."

  The pilot increased power and the ship began to climb. "I'm taking us up to a safe altitude," he said. "Get your people into their armor and let me know when they're ready. We're going in fast in case there's a reception committee."

  "Yes, sir," Flegetti said as he disappeared through the cockpit door.

  Flegetti com'd the cockpit fifteen minutes later. When the pilot responded, he said, "We're suited and ready, sir."

  "Roger. Strap in. We're going down."

  A few seconds later, the MAT seemed to fall from the sky, but it was a controlled fall. As it neared the ground, the pilot pulled out of the dive and touched the craft down with hardly more than a slight bump. The Marines in the rear compartment were out the door and running towards the tunnel entrance as the dirt kicked up by the landing was still settling to the ground.

  * * *

  Lt. Colonel Diminjik tapped the com to take the call from Major Garfield and heard, "We just got a message from the pilot who took Carver's half-squad back to Loudescott. He says the site has been attacked and there are dead bodies all over the place. They seem to all be civilians, but Carver only had half a squad left after you pulled most of her people off for temporary redeployment, so the military dead would be limited. The pilot said the sergeant with the two returning fire teams reported that the facility is locked down and supposes the rest of the dig site people made it inside when the attack came. The dead were mostly killed by large caliber lattice weapons."

  "Lattice? That means Raiders. Dear God. How many bodies, Pete?"

  "The pilot estimates he could see about sixty from the air."

  Diminjik hung his head sadly for a few seconds, then came alive with anger and said, "Pete, I want every fighter we have in the air as soon as possible. I want them to board that freighter in orbit and determine if it's responsible for this massacre."