Now, he had nothing left to do, to delay the awful job. Bain reminded himself how pleased Lin would be that he had done it without being told. She would be even more pleased that she didn't have to do it, or that they wouldn't have to wait for the spaceport technicians to come do it. Whatever Lin had decided to do about the shield tests, with the disinfectant spraying done, they could move on to their new job that much faster.
Bain picked up the spray canister by its thick, reinforced strap, and slung it into place across his back. The canister nearly measured from his shoulders to his knees. Bain stumbled forward a step from the weight, then braced himself. He tightened the strap across his chest so the canister wouldn't move, then unclipped the spray end of the hose. He slid the breather mask off the top of the canister, and put it over his nose and mouth. It was only a cup of filtering mesh. It didn't keep the smell of the disinfectant from giving him headaches and nausea, but it would protect him if his lungs were weak, or if he was coming down with some virus. Bain didn't like to think what would happen if the disinfectant reacted with some disease he didn't know he had yet.
“Hello, ship!” a man called through the open hatch.
Bain nearly yelped. He had his hand on the trigger, ready to start spraying the disinfectant. A tiny spurt of the stinking liquid burst out of the nozzle. Bain relaxed his hand, and turned around to meet the newcomer.
“Dr. Anyon?” he blurted. Bain dropped the hose altogether.
“I almost don't recognize you, Bain,” the man said, with a chuckle. He stepped up into the hatch and looked around. “I certainly don't recognize Sunsinger from the inside.”
“We don't have any refugees to ferry, so Lin decided to haul cargo for a while.” Bain took off his breather mask. Now that he had a visitor, he didn't have to spray the inside of the hold for a while. “You're a Ranger now?”
“With Captain Gilmore's squadron.” Dr. Anyon grinned, brightening his dusty brown face and chocolate brown eyes. “What do you think? Does it suit me?”
He spread his arms, giving Bain a better look at his olive and black Ranger uniform with the mortar-and-pestle insignia of the medical corps on each shoulder and the breast pocket.
“It looks great.”
“So do you. I hear they finally let Lin tell you that you were kin. Congratulations.”
“You knew?” Bain grinned.
“I had all the records of all the children in my care at the orphanage. Of course I knew. I was just as furious as Lin when those paper-pushers at Refuge said you needed a testing period, and Lin couldn't say anything about being kin until everybody was sure you two would get along. Anyone with brains could tell you two got along from the moment you met.”
“We'd get along a lot better if you'd stop gossiping, and let my crew get on with his work,” Lin said, from the end of the access tube. She held onto her scowl for two seconds before it broke into a grin. “How are you, Deon?”
“As full of gossip as ever.” Dr. Anyon grinned back. He crossed his arms, and leaned against the frame of the hatch behind him.
“Did Gil send you over here for my answer? I didn't think the medic corps had branched out into running errands.”
“Nope. I'm here for my own curiosity. Plus, I was busy with the quarterly physical exams until last night. I didn't even know you were in port, and the captain was forced to recruit you, until he came back.” His smile stayed on his face, but his eyes lost their sparkle. “It's not as dangerous as he lets on, but the captain is always doubly cautious about his friends. Especially if they're civilians.”
“Forced to recruit us, huh?” She nodded. “I guessed as much last night. It doesn't seem that dangerous to me. We'll have you and Gil nursemaiding us the whole time, and Sunsinger just got a complete overhaul and retrofit two stops ago, so we're in top shape. We can outrun any Mashrami ship ever grown.”
“We're going to do it?” Bain blurted.
“Like I told Gil last night, it's something we have to do.” Lin nodded. She looked tired, but Bain thought he sensed peace under her weariness.
“Do you want me to tell him?” Anyon asked. “It might be easier on him, coming second-hand.”
“Already told him. Do you have to report in soon, or can you stay for breakfast?”
“I'll stay. The rumors about bad military issue food are true on board ship. When the cooks are able to set up a planet-bound kitchen, they work wonders, but in flight...” The doctor grinned and shuddered.
“Bain?” Lin nodded at the disinfectant canister still strapped to his back.
“I better do the spraying before I eat.” Bain grinned. Suddenly, the job didn't seem so bad.
“Good idea. And you'd better take a long shower, too. Oh, and leave the hatch open. We're launching by noon, and the port's crew will be loading us within the hour.”
“We're leaving that soon?” He slipped the breather mask back into place.
“We can take one more load before we go in for alterations. They'll install the shield plates on Banner, and that's where our first load is scheduled, so it all works together. Hurry up before the chocolate gets cold.” Lin reached out and tousled his hair before she turned and led Anyon up the tube to the bridge.
Bain grinned, took a deep breath, and pressed the button on the spray trigger. A fine, greenish-silver mist spilled through the air, coating everything it touched.
* * * *
The cargo Sunsinger took to Banner was mainly building equipment; land grading machines and foundation diggers, pre-fabricated walls and foundation components. The port crew of Kesley crammed the cargo hold until Bain was afraid it would start coming up the access tube to the bridge. There was no way he and Lin could use the exercise wheel during this flight, so it was dismantled to make room for more cargo.
On the way to Banner, Lin let Bain study the disk with the shield specifications and all the scientists’ research notes. After years of salvaging bits and pieces of Mashrami ships, the Fleet's Science Corps had managed to assemble a partially working Mashrami ship. It would launch and provide life support, and go into orbit around Banner, where they had assembled it. The sensors worked, as far as the scientists could tell. If the communications system worked, no one was really sure. They couldn't find anything that equaled communications on Human ships. There were a few odd bulges and tangles of root-like wires in the ‘brain’ area of the re-assembled ship that could have been the communications center, but no one had figured out yet how it worked—or if it worked.
From three years’ worth of tests and trials and mistakes that sometimes came close to destroying the whole ship, the Fleet's scientists had learned what they deemed crucial elements in Mashrami science.
The Mashrami, as theorized at the start of the war, were oriented toward organic life in their thinking. Their ships were an odd conglomeration of mineral and a plant-like life form that had touches of animal characteristics. They literally grew their own ships and the equipment that ran them. No Mashrami weapons had been discovered in the wreckage of all the captured ships, and the scientists theorized that the Mashrami energy weapons were some kind of animal or plant—or combination of both—that emitted electrical and sonic beams to disrupt shipboard computer functions, and break the atomic bonds in the metal and ceramic coating of the ship hulls.
When Mashrami encountered Human ships, their weapons always targeted on specific parts of the ships. With selective tests, using individual shipboard equipment and gauging the reaction of the Mashrami sensors, the scientists knew what attracted the enemy's attention and firepower.
Vibrations of energy from aggressive sensors and communications equipment attracted the Mashrami. Heat from thruster engines created a short-lived trail their sensors could follow.
“Do we have to turn off our engines and drift every time we sense a Mashrami ship coming?” Bain asked. “How do we get rid of the heat that's already there?”
They were both in the galley booth, eating lunch their third day out from Kesley. Bain
had his portable reading screen sitting on the table so he could keep studying while he ate. Lin had her own screen with more advanced engineering information. She wanted to know every single change the Fleet engineers were going to make to her ship before she would let anyone touch it.
“Good catch.” Lin said. “Here in my specs, they have diagrams and installation instructions with the specifications for some heat-absorbing baffles to go down over the exhaust ports. You have to admit, those Fleet scientists and engineers are covering every angle.”
“I don't like this part where we have to turn off all sensors and communications, and pretend to be an asteroid,” he said, after taking a huge bite of his sandwich and only chewing three times before swallowing.
“Aggressive sensors. We can still use passive sensors, and we can still have communications open.”
“We can receive, but we can't acknowledge reception or send anything back. How do we call for help?”
“We pray doubly hard whenever the Mashrami get close.” Lin shrugged and picked up her cup of herbal tea. Bits of steam escaped through the tiny drinking hole.
“Lin, I think I'm scared.”
“I know I am.” She sipped at her tea, then slowly put the cup down again. “But not scared enough to say no when the Commonwealth needs us.”
“What if the shields don't work like they think? We won't know until the Mashrami start shooting at us.” Bain pushed away his plate with the last half of his sandwich. He just didn't feel hungry anymore.
“All right, here's what it all boils down to: the Mashrami think that life gives off certain vibrations of energy and sound and heat. If we can make our ships look like chunks of cold, dead rock, the Mashrami will just fly on past us without a second look.”
“That makes sense, I guess,” he grumbled.
“Spacers are the best pilots, and Free Traders the best of the best.” Lin didn't sound proud or boasting when she said it; she just stated facts. “Spacers’ ships are smaller, more maneuverable and faster where you need it most. We don't carry the weapons the bigger ships do, nor the shielding. We have to be good, tricky pilots. We have to know our ships like a second skin. So when the Fleet wants to do tests in dangerous situations like this, they turn to Spacer pilots and Spacer ships. The combination is necessary because you can put the best pilot in the best engineered ship, but if they don't have years to get to know each other and become a team, they're useless.”
“You're the best pilot around, Captain Gil and Dr. Anyon say.”
“Well, I'll get a chance to prove it once and for all, won't I?”
She turned her reading screen around so he could see a schematic of the thin plates that would be installed all over Sunsinger's surface. The plates had energy absorption properties that would fool all but the most sensitive sensor scanning beams. When inspected by conventional Fleet scanners, the plates registered as cold, space-born, and faintly radioactive rock. Nothing organic. Nothing metallic. Nothing to make even a faintly curious hunter stop for a second look.
“That is going to be our disguise. It's up to me to make Sunsinger a good actor, to match the disguise.” Lin laughed when Bain just frowned, confused. “When we sense the Mashrami approaching, you'll be in charge of turning off sensors and all the other give-away equipment. I'll shut down the engines and close the baffles over the exhaust ports. Then, with the help of a few thrusters that shouldn't get picked up by anything or anyone, I'll keep the ship moving so it acts like a chunk of debris. We have to follow the path of whatever arch we're in when we get sign of the Mashrami. A dead stop will be as much of a giveaway as rushing towards them with all our sensors scraping at their sensors, and our engines blasting at emergency speed.”
“Passive sensors let us know if we're going to be in trouble,” Bain added. He thought he was finally catching on.
“Exactly. If we handle it right, we'll be able to turn on full functions, and zoom away before the Mashrami can recover from their shock. Straight into the arms of the Rangers with all their nice, big, nasty guns.”
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* * *
Chapter Four
Lin didn't let Bain spend much time studying the advanced specifications. He still had his regular tests to study for. They had left Kesley before his scheduled test. Captain Gilmore arranged for Bain to take his test the day Sunsinger landed on Banner.
Bain did his usual chores when they landed, making sure Sunsinger had come through the voyage without unusual stress damage. He went through the multiple shipboard systems, plugging the diagnostic hand-held unit into each power junction, and took each board and panel and memory core through test programs that would reveal problems or damage or decrease in function due to ordinary wear and tear.
While he worked on the bridge, and then moved down to the auxiliary monitor bases in the hold and then outside the ship, the port crew on Banner unloaded Sunsinger's cargo. They were still hauling cartloads down the ramp when Bain finished his diagnostic work. He dashed up the ramp instead of climbing the ladder straight to the bridge, detoured around two last pallets of equipment, and up the access tube. Lin was nowhere to be seen. Bain imagined she was in the Rangers’ headquarters office on the far side of the port, arranging for the work to start on Sunsinger.
He plugged the diagnostic unit into the control panel and waited, counting to ninety while Ganfer downloaded the data recorded during the tests.
“Half an hour,” Ganfer said.
The light on the diagnostic unit turned blue. Bain tugged it out, and hurried around the control panel to put the unit away in its storage bin.
“Do you need the map to get to the testing building?” Ganfer asked, as Bain hurried to his cubicle.
“No.” Bain thought he could find the building with his eyes shut. “It's only on the edge of the port, next to the Rangers.” He tugged off his shirt and wiped at his arms. The weather on Banner was nice and cool with a soft breeze. He hadn't worked up a sweat while running the diagnostics, so that meant he didn't have to wash before he put on his new clothes.
Bain chose his blue, purple and white jacket, which Lin had bought for him on Refuge, during that first visit to the marketplace. It still fit, though it wasn't as roomy as it had been. He wore a white shirt with loose sleeves, and his gold and green vest with the pockets inside and outside, and the green pants that were so dark they looked black. His boots were nearly new. They had a few scuffmarks on their dull black surface, but Bain didn't think that mattered much. He only cared about looking good and feeling comfortable. Every little bit of ‘good’ would help him during the test.
Lin had told him he was smart, and he knew all the material, so why worry? Bain still worried. Even though Lin was officially his guardian, and he was officially her apprentice, he was still worried. What if something went wrong, and the authorities decided he didn't belong with Lin? What if they put him in another orphanage, or transferred him to another apprenticeship program? He had turned down a chance to apprentice with Commander Chasburn of the Rangers. What if someone found out, decided he was very stupid, and took him away from Lin? Bain decided he had to make honors-level grades in all his tests, so nothing would separate him from Lin.
This test frightened him. Even with all Lin and Branda's assurances that he would do well, he was still afraid.
“You'll do fine, Bain,” Ganfer said. “Take deep breaths, and run as hard and fast as you can on the way over to the testing building.”
“How will running help?” Bain checked his belt one last time, tugged his shirt into place over it, and picked up his jacket.
“It will use up all that nervous energy you're generating. You're practically giving off sparks.”
“I am not!” For two seconds, the boy felt both frightened and angry. Then he realized how ridiculous Ganfer's words were, and how ridiculous he was for reacting that way. He burst out laughing, and laughed more when the tightness in his chest vanished with the sound.
“That's bet
ter,” Ganfer said. “Lin was just as nervous as you when she took her tests. She had years of studies and testing to make up for, when we finally reached civilization. There were gaps in her knowledge of history and politics because of the purges in my system, but she still passed her tests with honors. You have all Lin's help and mine, and all the new disks you've been studying. You will do well, Bain.”
“Thanks.” That tightness tried to creep back into his chest. “I'd better get going.”
“Yes, you should. You only have fifteen minutes left.”
“So, I'll run.” Bain chuckled as he headed for the hatch and the ladder down to the ground.
He looked for signs of Lin when he reached the testing building. It looked just like the Ranger headquarters building: two stories high, built of dark, reddish-brown stone blocks and silvery mortar, with silver metal shutter panels that slid down over the windows and a black metal door set in the exact middle of the front wall. Bain paused for a few seconds in front of the testing building, hoping for sign of Lin. She had said she didn't think she would be free, but she would walk him to the test if she were.
Lin didn't come out, and Ganfer reminded him he had less than two minutes to report to the sign-in desk to take his test. If he arrived late, he would lose points. Bain hurried to the door, and pressed the buzzer button.
A green scanner beam shot out from a point over the door. It widened into a funnel that covered Bain from all sides. He closed his eyes and held out his hands so the beam could scan his fingerprints as well as his biological signs. If he had taken his test on Kesley, he wouldn't have had to worry about security precautions. Banner was a central point for the military, for refueling, repairs and development of weapons. Security was tight everywhere.
The door slid open. Bain hurried inside. He wanted to ask Ganfer how much time he had left, but he was afraid to hear he was late.
The hall was tall and narrow and painted stark white, even the floor. Bain turned the first corner he came to, and nearly ran into the desk that blocked three-quarters of the hallway.
Dead World [Sunsinger Chronicles Book 3] Page 3