Gate Crashers

by Patrick S. Tomlinson

  “Devor, how long before we can switch on the active camouflage?”

  The young lance corporal looked to her screens for a moment before answering. “Hull temp is still a couple of hundred degrees too high. We should be fine once Lieutenant Simmons completes his braking maneuvers.”

  “Are we getting signal from the Gargoyles yet?”

  “Yes, sir. Gargoyle platforms are five by five.”

  “Excellent. Network their feeds to my link, and fire control as well.”

  Devor pulled up a new menu on her display and entered a code. “Done, sir.”

  “Thank you.” Harris rested a big hand on her shoulder as he sorted through the new stream of telemetry coming from the sensors and cameras mounted on the OOPs tens of kilometers above.

  Harris didn’t really believe they’d need the Gargoyles during the mission. Their initial scans had only located a scattering of settlements on the planet’s entire surface, and low-tech settlements at that. He was confident anything his men or the survey team encountered could be dealt with using small arms.

  But his OCS instructors had taught him never to make assumptions, and this low-risk mission would provide his platoon with an excellent dry run. The beginning of any expedition was a time to do things by the book, even if they were writing most of the chapters on the fly.

  Once the delicate choreography of braking maneuvers was complete, they found a natural clearing in the forest to serve as a landing zone for the shuttles. There was a hissing outside the exterior hatch while the pressure equalized with the surrounding air. Only an outline of the marines’ shuttle could be seen, and only if one was almost on top of it.

  A hatch popped open and folded to the ground. Three fully loaded riflemen flowed out and took up positions. After a moment, they flickered and disappeared as the active camouflage systems in their armor adjusted to the new surroundings.

  Harris stepped out of the doorway, flanked by Felix. Rebreathing rigs covered their mouths until local atmospheric conditions could be verified.

  “Corporal?” Harris said.

  A shimmer stood and briskly walked toward his CO. “Sir?”

  “Take your team and secure the tree line. Call me when you’re in position so that we can land the Magellan’s shuttle.”

  “Sir.” The mirage saluted and then moved off with the other three like a pack of translucent wolves.

  “That’s creepy,” Felix observed. “They’re like ghosts. How do you keep track of them, Tom?”

  “An augmentation program superimposes them into my vision. I see them as clearly as I see you.”

  “Handy. Can I get that program?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Why are we using troops anyway? Why not bring down the battle androids?”

  “A few reasons, but mostly because they each weight half a ton. We can only land two of them per shuttle trip. Hang on.” Harris closed his eyes for a moment. “They’re in position. Simmons, inform the Magellan’s shuttle they are clear to land.”

  The tablet in Felix’s hand beeped, drawing his attention. “The air looks good. We can drop these breathers.”

  Overhead, the shuttle bearing Magellan’s survey team swung low, held aloft by three pillars of exhaust gas. The whine of its turbines slowed as it settled onto the thick mat of green and purple grasses beneath their feet. The hatch cycled, then retracted as Captain Ridgeway and Lieutenant Dorsett hopped to the ground. Jacqueline waved at Felix as they walked over. Allison stopped just short of the two men.

  Harris saluted. The survey team was in charge here; Harris’s men were purely escorts.

  “Captain Ridgeway, welcome to Solonis B.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant Harris. Hello, Felix.”

  “Um, hi, Captain.”

  “Allison is fine, Felix. Let’s leave the titles for the military types. It makes them more comfortable. Judging by your naked faces, I take it the air checked out?”

  “Yeah, it’s a little high in O2 and there’s a lot of argon floating around, but we should be fine in the short term.”

  Allison unhooked the clasp that held her mask in place. Her face uncovered, she breathed deeply and exhaled a long, satisfied sigh. “You two may not be able to appreciate this, but that was the first breath of nonrecycled air I’ve taken since … well, since before either of you were born.”

  Felix was too busy making a show of not looking at Jacqueline to hear what Allison said.

  “Shall we get started, ma’am?”

  “Absolutely, Lieutenant. Lead the way.”

  Allison’s survey crew took their time covering the three kilometers from the LZ to the outskirts of the settlement, which was fine with their escorts; the forest floor was thick with creeping vegetation eager to snare their feet and equipment.

  The forest’s “trees” weren’t really. Their trunks were thick and segmented, with roots snaking down from as high as five meters into the ground. Jacqueline called them “beard trees,” and the name stuck. They were topped by a single massive, spade-shaped leaf.

  The survey team recorded everything and stopped frequently to collect samples. A brightly colored flower clinging to one of the beard trees caught Harris’s eye. He moved to investigate it more closely. As his shadow fell over it, the flower opened wide, revealing a bright blue pod.

  “Hey, Felix, come look at this. I think it reacts to movement.” As he said it, the pod at the center of the flower bulged and then burst, releasing a cloud of blue dust into Harris’s face.

  “Ahh!” Shocked, Harris fell back to the ground.

  Felix and Allison charged over to Harris, who was rubbing frantically at his face.

  Allison pulled out a canteen and poured water over his eyes and mouth. “Are you all right? Does it burn?”

  “A little. What is this stuff?”

  “I don’t know yet.” Allison handed him the canteen and inspected the flower. “It could be an irritant or poison, or it could just be pollen.”

  “So it’s either trying to kill me or mate with me?”

  “You’ll find that’s true of most things in nature.”

  “It tastes like pepper.”

  “Spit it out. We don’t know what it will do to your system.”

  Felix leaned in close to Harris’s face and sniffed the blue dust. “It does smell like pepper. Tom, you know what this means, don’t you?”

  “What?”

  “It means you’re a seasoned veteran.”

  “Felix,” Harris unslung his rifle, “because you’re my friend, I’m going to give you a ten-second lead before I start shooting.”

  Allison shook her head. “Now, boys, I will not tolerate fratricide, regardless of how deserved it may be. Lieutenant, wash your face, and consider this a lesson in the virtues of caution. Felix, collect a sample.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they answered in unison.

  Allison walked back toward the rest of her team. Felix helped Harris back to his feet and handed him a handkerchief.

  “Here. Wipe yourself off.”

  “Thanks.” Harris removed the powder from his face and handed the handkerchief to Felix, who promptly dropped it into a plastic bag and scribbled something onto it with a marker.

  “You’re using that as your sample?”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  Harris sighed and resumed the march toward the settlement.

  The two teams could not be more different as they advanced. Even in unfamiliar territory, Harris’s marines were the pinnacle of stealth. Their movements were efficient and deliberate, darting from one bit of cover to the next, each of them covered by the fire arcs of at least two of their squad mates. Above all, they were silent. Their implanted com systems certainly helped, but even at a jog, their feet fell on the ground with care.

  By contrast, the survey team was like a marching band. They trod carelessly through the open, snapping roots and crunching leaves underfoot. Each new discovery was met with excited exclamations. Glaciers advanced faster.


  We may as well try to hide a parade, Harris thought through their private line. His squad chuckled among themselves.

  Unit One, move ahead to scout out the path. The two troopers nodded their affirmation and drove ahead. So quiet were they, and so effective was their adaptive camouflage, that not one of the survey team noticed their departure.

  * * *

  “It’s ba-aack.”

  Commander Gruber looked up from his chair’s display. “Would you care to elaborate on that, Mr. Wheeler?”

  “Sure thing, sir.” Wheeler shunted the feed from his station into the bridge’s main holo. A red dot surrounded by a blinking circle sat three light-minutes deeper into the system from where Magellan and Bucephalus orbited Solonis B.

  Commanded Gruber frowned. “The fuzzy anomaly.”

  “Yes, sir. Got it in one.”

  “Why didn’t we spot it before?”

  “It was eclipsed by the planet. Our orbit just carried us into line of sight.”

  “Okay, but this is our third orbit. Did it just arrive, or was it waiting for us when we entered the system?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I didn’t see it until now, but it’s hard to spot at the best of times.”

  “Maggie?”

  “Yes, Commander Gruber, how may I assist you?”

  “I’d like you to sift through the sensor logs since our last transition for any earlier sign of the anomaly.”

  “I’ve completed the review. There was no sign of the anomaly prior to Mr. Wheeler’s discovery.”

  Gruber’s eyebrows crept up. “That was fast.”

  “Based on your conversation, I anticipated a 78 percent chance that you would make the request.”

  “How efficient of you, Maggie. Thank you. Com, link me up to the captain. She’ll want to know our voyeur has returned.”

  Prescott turned to face the commander. “And Bucephalus?”

  “Good eye, Prescott. I forgot about them.” Gruber’s hand reached up to rub his face. “You may as well conference Captain Tiberius in with us.”

  Wheeler snorted. “Fifty bucks says he’ll want to shoot it.”

  Gruber did some shooting of his own, firing a sharp glance at the helmsman. “Feeling a little insubordinate, Ensign?”

  Wheeler’s eyes sank to the deck. “Sorry, sir. That was disrespectful.”

  Gruber held the gaze a moment longer; just to be sure the point had been made. “You have to remember that we’re not alone anymore. I know we’ve all gotten comfortable with each other on this tour, but the mission is in full swing now, and the Bucephalus brings in a whole new element. We can’t let discipline slip away. That goes for everyone.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “It’s all right, Mr. Wheeler.” Gruber smiled. “Besides, only an idiot would take that bet.”

  * * *

  “As long as it continues to sit there passively, I don’t see what’s wrong with leaving it be. It didn’t cause us any harm the last time.” Allison listened to the response through her earpiece. “Let me ask you this: Do you have any weapons with a three-light-minute range?… No? Then this discussion is purely academic, isn’t it?”

  Allison’s foot started tapping a three count. “I didn’t say we should ignore it. Of course we should keep an eye on it, which is probably exactly what they’re doing to us. We’re in their sandbox, after all … We tried that last time. As soon as we initiated contact, they jumped. If they want to talk, I think it’ll be on their timetable, not ours … Fine. Ridgeway out.”

  Harris stood back up and moved to Allison’s side. “Everything all right, ma’am?”

  “It’s fine, Lieutenant. Your captain and I were just working through some differences of opinion.”

  “With Tiberius on the side of action, I take it?”

  “You could say that.”

  “It fits his history. You have to understand, he’s spent the last eleven years being shot at by three different navies in four different oceans. That’ll make anyone a little trigger-happy.”

  “We’re in a much bigger ocean now, Lieutenant, and I doubt Bucephalus has the sharpest teeth in it. We’ll need a less confrontational approach if we’re going to survive.” Allison’s eyes fell on the M-118 infantry rifle slung across Harris’s chest.

  He ignored the glance. “Shall we move out, ma’am?”

  Allison nodded.

  “All right,” Harris said. “The scout unit found a river about six hundred meters ahead.”

  “You sent scouts ahead?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I didn’t see them leave,” Allison said.

  “Wouldn’t be very good scouts if you had.”

  “Yeah, all right. Why didn’t we see the river from the air?”

  “The forest hid it. Apparently, the beard trees grow in the riverbed.”

  “How’s the current?”

  “Pretty slow,” Harris said. “The trees create a lot of drag. But it’s too deep to walk.”

  Felix perked up at that. “How deep is it?”

  “Over your head. Past that, it doesn’t really matter how deep it is.”

  “That … might be a problem.”

  “Why? We can swim it easily enough.” Harris noticed Felix was being really quiet. “Felix, you do know how to swim, right?”

  “Oh, sure, Tom. I can’t tell you how many lazy summer days I spent in the Sea of Tranquility as the waves gently lapped up against the shore.”

  “All right, smart-ass, but you seriously never learned to swim?”

  “You know the Lunie body type. Tall, skinny, and undermuscled doesn’t make for good buoyancy.”

  “Well, I guess it’s time to embrace your inner fish.”

  The teams pressed through the undergrowth. Before long, rustling water echoed through the maze of trees. Felix looked like a man walking through a funeral parlor. When they reached the riverbank, everyone started to disrobe in preparation, except Felix.

  “Dude,” Harris whispered, “you’re going to want to get that uniform off. It’ll waterlog and pull you down otherwise.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “What’s the matter? Did you get a risqué tattoo recently?”

  “No. It’s not anything like that. It’s just…” Felix’s cheeks flushed red and his head darted to the side.

  Harris looked behind him to see what Felix was trying so hard not to. The smooth, graceful backside of Lieutenant Dorsett greeted his eyes.

  “So that’s it. You don’t want the brunette to see your bony white ass.”

  “Tom, don’t.”

  “Three years you’ve worked for this adventure. Hard years. Are you really going to let a little stream and some body image issues stop you?”

  “Yes.”

  Harris set his jaw. “Get out of that uniform and start swimming before I throw you in.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  Harris’s jaw was unyielding.

  “I hate you, Tom Harris.”

  “Sure you do. Now strip.”

  Everyone finished undressing and waded into the stream in their undies. The water was cool, owing to the mountains it had recently departed. Felix mumbled something uncouth as he trudged through the crisp water, stopping frequently to find better footing.

  Eventually, the bottom fell away sharply as the water rushed around him. Feet kicking and arms thrashing, Felix didn’t so much swim as just prolong the drowning process. He tried embracing his inner fish as Harris suggested, but after a brief struggle, he sank like a colander canoe.

  While he drifted toward the bottom, Felix fought off the rising panic by imagining Jacqueline administering rescue breaths. Then he remembered that Harris had first-responder training, and the panic came charging back. Spots started to form in his blurred vision when something grabbed his hair and gave it a sharp jerk. He broke the surface and dragged in a ragged breath.

  Harris stared back at him, concern etched across his face. “Are you all right?” he yelled.r />
  “I’m drowning, Tom, not going deaf,” Felix sputtered.

  “C’mon, buddy, hold on to my shoulders and I’ll have you out in a minute.”

  Felix tried to hide his face. “Is she looking?”

  “Everyone’s looking, Felix.”

  “Wonderful.”

  They reached safety amid a chorus of wolf whistles and catcalls. Undeterred, Harris rose from the shore like an obsidian column and waved to the crowd. Felix looked more like an ivory coat rack as he rushed to get back into his clothes.

  “All right there, Felix?” Allison called after him.

  “Fine, ma’am. Just a little chilly.”

  “Yes, we can see that…”

  Felix covered his shame with a shirt and wished he had a suit of adaptive camo of his own. As if to rub it in, one of the scouts suddenly appeared, startling everyone but Harris.

  “Tillman, what’s the situation?”

  “We reached the settlement, sir. There’s … people.”

  “Well, yeah. Couldn’t be much of a settlement without them.”

  “No, sir. Not people. People.”

  “I don’t follow you, Corporal.”

  As Harris puzzled over his scout’s report, a short figure walked out of the foliage twenty meters down the riverbank. She was distinguished from the teams by a pronounced lack of clothing, a blowgun in hand, and a body decorated with blue-and-white paint.

  However, these superficial differences were insignificant when measured against the similarities. Under the paint and loincloth, the woman was unmistakably human.

  CHAPTER 26

  “Humans? I don’t understand,” Eugene said to the image of Jeffery, floating in his dark bedroom.

  “We don’t yet either, Professor, but the fact remains that Solonis B is chock-full of human settlements.”

  Eugene got up out of bed, causing his wife to stir.

  “Grizzly Bear, what’s going on?”

  “Go back to sleep, darling. Grizzly Bear has some work to do. I’ll be back before the sheets cool.”