The rush of atmosphere across the spaceplane’s fuselage ended their friendly wrangling. Xris took over manual control of the spaceplane; Ito started calling out course corrections. They located the munitions plant, made one high-altitude pass over it. Xris had connected a small, portable computer to the space sensor array on the plane. Normally, the sensors were calibrated for use in close navigation in space. They didn’t have the processing power or the resolution for high-altitude-to-ground surveillance. The addition of Xris’s computer and the electromagnetic refracting lens apertures enabled the system to provide a scan of the area.
Xris shot several images, destined to be converted to tactical maps. Armstrong had provided maps, but these were probably outdated by several months. On a warm world, the terrain changed from season to season. There was no irritation worse—and sometimes no greater danger—than working with outdated maps.
TISor 13 was an interesting moon. An orbiting moon rarely rotated on its own axis, but this was one of them. According to Armstrong, the rotation made it difficult to determine planet-rise and planet-set without a computer. Most of the night wasn’t truly dark, being illuminated by the moon’s gas giant mother, which cast an eerie orange glow over the ground. Only about four hours were dark at any one time—this would play merry hell with their recon schedule.
Xris hovered the spaceplane into a dense woods, set it down in a small clearing. Surrounded by tall ugly gray-mottled trees, spackled with orange spots that were either some sort of disease or due to the orange light, the plane was easy to camouflage. It was already the same gray as the trees. Xris and Ito both changed into gray field coveralls, field webbing, and cloth hats. Xris carried a 44-decawatt lasgun in a side holster, a 22.3-decawatt lasgun in a shoulder holster, a synthusteel Eversharp fighting knife in his boot, two thurmite grenades and one tear gas canister in a pouch on his webbing, and a gas mask.
Ito carried the regulation 38-decawatt lasgun and a gas mask. His secondary armament consisted of a knife/fork/spoon set and a Xirconian Army multiknife. He carried no other weapons, being burdened with the tool kit, which contained wire cutters, data-link with multiple interchangeable access ports (you never knew what computer you might have to interface with these days), minishovel, cutting laser, spreader clamps, and a can of spray neoprene rubber. Night-vision goggles rounded out both agents’ gear, and then there was Ito’s snakebite kit.
They waited for relative darkness before commencing. They had plenty of time; no need to hurry. The Vigilance wouldn’t be arriving for another nineteen hours. Once the orange ball of fire had dropped below the horizon, the two agents moved out together. Their landing site was about two kilometers from the facility. The trees near the swamp were shorter and arranged in clumps, but the grass was long, nearly shoulder height, and had a slimy feel. The grass rippled in the night breeze like water.
Xris went first, walking slowly and crouching low to the ground. Ito did the same, some ten meters to his rear. Neither spoke. Every fifty meters or so, Xris stopped and pulled out his night-vision goggles and scanned the area. The place was assumed to be deserted, but Xris’s credo was: Assume, and get your ass shot off. He saw nothing, however.
Following their map, they circled the entire facility, moving no faster than a crawl, stopping only when they found cover. A few security lights lit the outside of the building, but they were poorly placed, left large areas in deep shadow. About one-third of the lights had burned out and had not been replaced. The factory appeared to have been hastily constructed of the crude local brick and looked low-tech for a munitions plant, but there was no need for better. They weren’t producing missiles for the Warlord’s naval vessels, just small arms charges, grenades, and handheld rockets for the damn technologically illiterate Corasians.
Nearing the back end of the facility, close to the loading dock,
Xris entered the warm, oozing water of the swamp. Behind him, he heard a splash and Ito’s soft, disgusted grunt. The two agents crawled along the squishy bottom, propelling themselves forward by grabbing on to whatever was growing down there. This was the fastest method of traversing a swamp, though not the most pleasant. Try walking and you’d end up either sunk to your knees in muck or hopelessly tangled.
The trick was not to think real hard about what it was you were using for handholds. Once Xris grabbed what he thought was grass, only to feel it wriggle and slide out of his hand. The shiver up his spine made ripples in the water and he knew—from the sound of soft swearing—that Ito had encountered something similar.
But once again, Xris gave Armstrong credit. This approach— through the swamp—was the best and closest they could make. The swamp extended to within several meters of the chain-link fence. And Armstrong had been right about the fence, although Xris wouldn’t have called it “ordinary.” The fence was far simpler. No sensing devices, no magnetic anomaly detectors, no defense systems, no nothing. It was a plain hardware-store chain-link fence.
Xris touched Ito’s arm, cautioned him to stay put. Xris slithered out of the swamp. Reaching relatively dry land, he belly-crawled up to the fence. He pulled out his boot knife, stood it handle-down on the ground, and then released it, letting the metal blade fall onto the fence.
No spark. Armstrong was right about that, too. The fence wasn’t electrified.
Xris pulled out his night-vision goggles, took a long, careful look. Nothing moved anywhere in the facility. Retrieving his knife, Xris slipped back into the water. He and Ito spent an hour watching the loading dock and saw no signs of life except for something that might have been a cat slinking from one shadow to another. By now, the gas giant was on the rise again; Xris could see things swimming through the swamp. From Ito’s muffled curse, he could see them, too. The two returned to their spaceplane.
Once inside, they peeled off their wet clothes. Ito wrinkled his nose, held his mud-covered coveralls at arm’s length. “Man, that swamp stinks! And to think we’ve got to go back tonight. I swear, Xris, I saw a snake three meters long and as thick around as your leg. All that crap about it being more scared of me than me of it ... hah! The damn thing floated right in front of me, stared at me with its little snaky eyes.”
“It didn’t bite you, did it?” Xris asked, grinning, scraping muck off his face.
“No,” Ito retorted, “but probably because it had just chowed down on a warthog or whatever kind of pork they grow around here. I’ll be glad to get this job over. And if you think I’m bad, wait till Mr. Finicky white-lab-coat Rowan sets foot in that slimy soup.”
“Maybe slogging around in muck’ll take his mind off that female. I’ll see if I can’t find a nice fat cephalopod to drop down his back.”
They changed into denims, spread out their equipment to dry in the hot sun. Xris routed the spaceplane’s sensors through his computer, set the sensors to pick up any movement in the vicinity. The two went to sleep.
A light on the portable comm unit started to flash, accompanied by a beeping sound. Xris was immediately awake. He rose from the spaceplane’s bunk, and slid his feet into his boots. He looked at the clock. 2700, Standard Military Time. Right on schedule.
He shook Ito, who could sleep through an artillery barrage. “The Vigilance is in orbit.”
Ito fumbled his way out of his bunk. Xris sat down at the commlink. The channel was clear, and he entered the decryption code into the comm unit to begin to receive encoded messages. Earphones in place, he tested the link.
“Sunray, this is Delta One. How do you read me, over?”
Immediately, Armstrong was on the net. “Delta One, this is Sunray. You will proceed to the facility and begin your entry. Assume Blackjack situation—all control is exercised from this station. Do you understand, Delta One?”
Ito paused in midyawn, gave Xris a puzzled look. Xris shook his head, annoyed. He didn’t know what was going on, either.
“Sunray, this is Delta One. Confirm that we are to begin our entry. We haven’t linked up with Javelin yet. Has something
gone wrong?”
Javelin was Rowan’s comm call sign.
“Delta One, this is Sunray. You will immediately begin your entry. If Javelin doesn’t arrive, do not wait. Do not execute any action without first clearing it with this station. Is that clear, Delta One?”
“Very clear, Sunray. Delta One, out.” Xris sat back, glared, frustrated, at the commlink.
“I don’t like this,” Ito said.
“Me, either. We should wait for Rowan.” Xris scratched irritably at a red welt on his arm; one of the local insects had bitten him. “Unless that computer system is dirt easy, there isn’t much you or I can do to break in.”
“What do we do?”
“Hell, there’s nothing we can do! You heard Armstrong. We must assume Blackjack. No arguments, no questions.” Xris kicked the console with the toe of his boot.
Ito was silent a moment, then said quietly, “You think it’s Rowan, don’t you? Something’s happened.”
“I don’t know what to think!” Xris stood up, stomped around the small plane. Then he stopped, glared at nothing. “No, damn it. Whatever personal problems Rowan’s got, he wouldn’t let them get in the way of his job.”
“You said it yourself—he’s been acting pretty strange.”
Xris didn’t respond. He moved back over to stand in front of the comm unit. His fingers itched to touch the controls, call up Armstrong, demand an explanation—Blackjack or no Blackjack.
Not that Armstrong would tell him anything. The controller wasn’t there in order to satisfy Xris’s curiosity. The controller was in charge of the mission, and what he said went. Xris would only get himself into something deeper and darker than that damn swamp if he started disobeying orders again. Amadi wouldn’t go easy on Xris this time. Xris would be stuck behind some desk somewhere. Besides—Xris’s common sense took hold—if Armstrong was trying to grapple with an emergency, Xris might jeopardize the whole mission by attempting to reestablish contact.
“Maybe something’s gone wrong with the shuttle,” Ito said, reassuring. “That’s a new type Rowan’s flying in, you know.”
Xris snorted. “Rowan’s as experienced on flight systems as either of us. Maybe more.”
“So what do we do?” Ito asked again.
“You heard the man.” Xris went outside the plane, grabbed his coveralls, and started to dress. “Rowan’s probably on his way. We’ll link up outside the munitions facility.”
Ten minutes later, both were ready, their equipment strapped on. They put on earpiece headsets and keyed their data transmission to pass through the commlink on the spaceplane, enabling them to keep in touch with their orbital command vessel. The sky glowed an eerie orange. The gas giant was just setting. They headed for the swamp.
They slogged along side by side. No sign of Rowan. No word from the controller. Judging by Ito’s tightly drawn lips and lowering brows, he was thinking the same thing as his partner.
Suddenly Ito came to a halt.
“This isn’t right, Xris. We deserve some sort of explanation.”
Xris looked up at the sky, instinctively and inanely searching for Rowan in the heavens.
“You know as well as I do that as far as the bureau’s concerned, we don’t deserve a damn thing outside of our paycheck. But,” he added grimly, “you can bet I’m going to have a whole lot of questions to ask once we get aboard Vigilance. And the faster we do this, the faster we’re back.”
The night was much darker than it had been on their first trip to the facility. They could actually see the stars—a rare sight on TISor 13 and one that occurred only when one of the other moons was in position to completely block the light of the planet. The eclipse was one of the reasons Armstrong had chosen this date for their incursion.
The two agents stayed closer together this time, but moved faster. They had been over the ground once already and knew where they were going. Every fifty meters they hunkered down, pulled out their night-vision goggles, and scanned the area. The factory loomed ahead of them. They skirted the trees on the perimeter, heading for the building’s back end.
The two slipped slowly and cautiously into the swamp, avoiding any noise. For the better part of fifteen minutes, they slid forward on their bellies, crawling through bottom muck, sliding over fallen trees and rocks.
Xris reached the tree stump closest to the loading dock fence and pulled out his night-vision goggles. Inside the compound, nothing moved; he could detect no heat sources that would indicate a living presence. Something heavy slid across his boot as he knelt in the water. Ito hissed and drew his lasgun. A snakelike creature, over ten meters in length, slithered past. It kept going, but Xris noticed that Ito didn’t put his gun away. Xris knew how his partner felt. It wasn’t the snakes. Something was wrong.
And still no word from Rowan.
Ito slid closer. Xris lifted his headset to hear.
“The more I think about it, the less sense it makes. We can’t do a damn thing without our computer expert. Why don’t you call in and request an abort on this one? We’re allowed to do that much, even under Blackjack.”
Xris toggled the transmitter switch. “Sunray, this is Delta One. Request permission to abort. Javelin has not linked up with this call sign yet.”
“This is Sunray. Proceed. Out.”
The two stared at each other. Ito shook his head. Cursing under his breath, Xris drew his lasgun, sloshed out of the swamp, and crawled to the fence. Seeing nothing in the compound, he motioned Ito forward.
Ito came slowly, dragging his tool kit bag behind him.
Xris pointed at the fence. He’d tested it yesterday, but he wasn’t about to trust anything or anyone, especially now.
Ito pulled out a signal analyzer.
“It’s not electrified and it doesn’t have any sensor data flowing through it,” he reported.
Xris nodded, sprayed neoprene on the section of the fence that he was going to cut. The rubber hardened into a black mass on the fence’s metal links. Using laser wire cutters, he cut a hole in the fence large enough for them to pass through. The neoprene prevented the laser from building up a resonance within the wire, possibly setting off a passive sensor somewhere. The rubber also coated the ends of the wire, keeping it from snagging the agents’ clothing when they crawled through. In case a quick exit was needed, they didn’t want to worry about getting hung up on the fence.
Ito slipped through the hole onto the paved loading area. He ran to the front of a hovertruck that was backed into the dock, and quickly scanned the area. No signs of life. He motioned Xris forward.
Xris slid through the hole in the fence. Once inside the compound, he began inspecting the hovertruck—a basic container carrier, used to offload space containers from shuttles and move them to the factory. The power was shut off. The truck rested on its air-cushion skirts.
After a quick look, Xris again keyed the comm unit and whispered, “Sunray, this is Delta One. We are inside the compound and are preparing to enter the facility. Any further instructions?”
Armstrong’s answer was immediate and terse. “This is Sunray. Proceed. Out.”
“Sunray, this is Delta One. The area is deserted. We could hold here until Javelin arrives.”
“This is Sunray. Proceed. Out.”
Something was definitely wrong. Xris took a twist out of its waterproof case in his pocket, stuck the tobacco in his mouth, chewed on it.
“If you decide to pack it in, I’ll back you up,” Ito said in a low voice.
Xris considered, but not for very long. He and Ito had come too far to quit now. They’d been ordered in by their controller, who knew the situation. They didn’t. They’d do the best they could without Rowan. After all, they only needed evidence of a probable Hung alliance with the Corasians in order to start an official investigation. A carelessly written memo might provide that much.
Xris swallowed the remainder of the soggy twist and nodded gloomily. Ito began to move, heading for the access door leading into the buildin
g. Xris stopped him.
“The door’s probably got an alarm on it. This truck’s backed in and sealed into the loading dock. If we go through the cab and cut our way into the cargo container, we should be able to just walk inside. Plus, it’ll make this look more like a robbery attempt.”
The door to the cab of the hovertruck was unlocked. The two climbed in, crawled over the seats. Ito took out a small cutting laser, opened up a six-inch hole in the back end of the cab. He peered through it into the trailer portion.
“Empty,” he reported.
He started to cut a larger hole, but it soon became apparent that this was going to take too much time. Using a spreader clamp, Xris quickly widened the aperture to about a meter.
“You go first and check the truck’s back doors. If they’re unlocked, open them a crack and scan for movement inside the loading dock.”
Ito wormed his upper body through the hole, ripped his gray fatigues on the jagged metal edges. Pausing, he rotated onto his back to gain leverage, dragged his legs through. He landed on the trailer floor and ran to the rear.
The doors were not locked. Ito pushed one side slightly ajar. Taking out his night-vision goggles, he peered into the darkness beyond. He motioned Xris to follow.
Xris was considerably bigger than his partner and had difficulty squeezing through the hole. He decided to go feet-first and was doing fine until he came to his chest and shoulders. For a panicked moment, he thought he might be stuck permanently, but a grunt and a heave bent the metal and propelled him forward, though he left a large amount of fabric and skin on the jagged edges.
Ito waited for him at the back end of the truck. “I figured I might have to leave you here, a Utile present for the Hung. I was going to tie a red bow around your ankles.”
The Knights of the Black Earth Page 6