* * * *
“Give it to me. Please.”
Troy frowned at Kipp’s whine and shot Patti an apologetic look. She glared at him. Someone had cut the fabric of her pants to reveal where the sting had swollen her knee to well over twice its size, and Troy took readings and images with the one remaining scanner.
“You’re supposed to be packing the samples to carry,” said Troy, pulling a flap of cloth aside. Patti’s skin had turned leathery and he dreaded seeing what had happened to Heather.
“Already done. I’m that good.” Kipp nudged him. “Come on.”
Troy handed the scanner over, not wanting to argue and have his irritation turned into frustrated flirting. He left Patti to Kipp and moved to see how Heather was.
She breathed steadily, eyes closed. Three emergency aid kits sat open next to her, monitoring her vitals. She was stable, but Troy could see her arms were both swollen and leathery, her side and leg, too.
“Could I get another shot of that painkiller?” asked Patti.
Troy glanced at the readings on the first aid kit open next to her, the countdown not up yet. “Ten minutes,” he said. She groaned.
“What does it feel like?” asked Kipp, his voice surprisingly gentle.
“White hot prickling,” said Patti. “Radiating outward. This is not what I signed on for.”
All smirking and smugness was gone from Kipp’s face as he looked at Patti.
“We’ll get the right treatment. Hang in there.”
She nodded. When Kipp moved over to scan Heather, Troy left to see what Desmond was doing.
The storm had retreated now, and he was removing one of the scanners from the makeshift shield generator. Teresa stood at the cave entrance, eager to take a scanner and get out there, but Troy was more interested in the world he could observe with just his eyes, covered in shining liquid.
“What is that?” he asked, moving to stand by Teresa. Irene stood on her other side, staring out at the shining landscape. Everything shone as though coated in silver or gold. Harder pebbles were scattered about, but the breeze pulled the liquid metal off the plants and to the ground.
“Water with a high concentration of various metals,” said Teresa. “Winds almost tornado-like, to have brought along those deposits.” She pointed to the pebbles dotting the ground. “They form a bit like hail. All that swirling metal in the storm, some of it’s bound to stick together.”
“How does anything survive?” asked Irene in a whisper.
“It takes cover,” said Teresa. “Like us.”
“The plants themselves will have high metal and mineral contents,” said Troy. “You see on some of the bigger ones, the way the leaves are shaped? The little ones are like that, too, to help drag the water off so it doesn’t evaporate and leave behind a thick coat of metal and grit. The high chlorophyll content suggests they still use a lot of sun.”
Irene shook her head and sighed, uncrossed her arms.
“You two sound like you know what you’re talking about. I wish the rest of this party did.”
Troy knew she meant Kipp, and he was surprised to notice it irritated him.
“Kipp doesn’t do vertebrates,” he said. “And those things definitely look like vertebrates.”
Irene glanced at him. Desmond presented a scanner to Teresa and Irene went with her outside, on complete alert.
“Advice,” said Desmond.
“No.”
“I’m giving it anyway,” he said, wiping his hands on his pants. “When we get back to the ship, get it over with and sleep with him. That’ll be out of the way and you’ll know whether you should avoid each other.”
Troy shot him a look. Desmond shrugged and took a drink of water from the bottle on his belt.
“Married twice. I think I know what I’m talking about.”
Troy didn’t want any advice that said he should sleep with anyone. He’d nearly lost his job altogether about a year earlier for kissing a man, and he did not care to repeat it. Teresa had helped him get a place on the Heavenhawk IV after the captain of the Heavenhawk I decided she no longer wanted him. Both the Heavenhawk II and the Heavenhawk III had passed him by on the way down; he had been on both on the way up. But the Heavenhawk I was OriginCo’s top ship, and people written up for sexual misconduct did not look good on a flagship.
He tried to keep his distance from Kipp as they trekked back to the shuttle through the glittery aftermath of the storm. They had left one scanner with Desmond and Teresa monitored the other now. The air felt better, Troy noticed, but the frown on Teresa’s face indicated the poor weather was not yet over.
“I need to stop trying to get ahead,” said Kipp, weighed down with the samples strapped to his back. None of them had offered to help him carry any. “The view from the back is amazing.”
Troy ignored him, but he was fully aware from that point on of Kipp’s blue-green eyes on his ass. Maybe enough time had passed and he could see whether the Heavenhawk III would have him again. Moving to a different ship would do wonders in getting away from Kipp.
The air was slowly growing heavier and charged by the time they reached the shuttle. Pools of metallic rain glistened on the top of the pod, and storm-created pebbles littered the ground. Irene held her hand to the lock and the door slid open.
The shuttle had been thoroughly jostled by the storm. Anything not shut or clamped down had slid or fallen, though thankfully they had not left much out. As Irene tried the com, Troy followed Teresa to check readings and scans. Kipp entered last, grumbling, and took his samples to the back area which served as a med room and lab when necessary.
“Can’t get through,” said Irene. “Too much atmospheric interference.”
“It’ll be storming off and on for a while yet,” said Teresa. “Immediate scans are working.”
“The shuttle ran a complete diagnostic but couldn’t send it,” said Troy. “So we technically know what’s wrong but can’t do anything about it.”
“And I’m just fine back here, with creepy samples I know nothing about,” said Kipp loudly.
Troy scowled. “No one’s going to hold your hand.”
Kipp popped his head through the doorway. “And I was so hoping you would.”
“Just see what you can do, Vaughn,” said Irene, rubbing at her forehead. She began digging around in the supplies. “How soon until the next storm? Can we make it back to the cave?”
Teresa breathed out.
“If we get moving right now and really push ourselves? Probably.”
“How much weight can you run with?” asked Irene as she pulled out the fifty-pound survival shield. It was much stronger than the makeshift device from scanners and would definitely keep either storms or cave creatures out.
“I’m not so old I can’t handle a shield,” said Teresa.
“Good. You and I are going back with this before the next storm hits. Vaughn, pass me the larger med kit. If you can handle the shield, I’ll take the med kit and some food and water. And here I was thinking all that training was useless.”
Kipp hesitated in the doorway, large med kit in hand.
“As much as I’d love to fool around here with Iverson, I offer my transport services.”
Irene shot him a glare that made all the playful mirth fade from his eyes. “I ever hear you insinuate any of us can’t carry weight again, I’ll boot your ass into full-time janitorial duty. You have those wasps to study. Get dissecting.”
Kipp immediately disappeared into the back area. Troy felt smug.
“What are you smirking at, Iverson?” asked Irene. “You’ve got files to dig through to see if we have the info to make repairs. The moment communications are back, you report our status to the ship. Understood?”
“Yes,” said Troy. “But I’m not sure you want to leave us together—”
“I’ll haul your ass down to janitorial level, too,” said Irene, hefting a very full pack onto her back. “This may be my first command mission but my character jud
gment’s sound. You and Vaughn have chemistry—just make sure you use it to get him to do his job.”
“I’d rather not be in command,” said Troy.
Irene rolled her eyes. “If the com works better short distance, we’ll be in touch.” She motioned to Teresa and led the way back out.
Troy stared after them, processing what had just happened. Irene had just left him alone in a nonfunctional shuttle with Kipp, for who knew how long. Shit.
* * * *
“You’re awful quiet out there. Sure you’re not masturbating?” asked Kipp.
He ducked out his head from the back but Troy kept his gaze fixed on the screen, running searches through the shuttle’s files. He’d managed to puzzle out the areas that needed repair from the diagnostic but was doubtful he could do all that much, even if he found the answers.
“Don’t you have something to be doing?” he asked.
Kipp ducked back inside and Troy tried to raise the Heavenhawk IV again with no result. Next he tried to raise the scanner Irene and Teresa had, but either they decided not to answer or even local communication was down. He ran a diagnostic on that.
“Well, throw me on the med bed and screw me sideways,” said Kipp loudly.
Troy swallowed at the thought of actually doing so: pounding Kipp, his hair flying around his face and catching in his open mouth as he worked himself with a hand.
“What?” asked Troy, trying to sound annoyed rather than aroused.
“Get in here and look at this,” said Kipp. This time he didn’t even bother coming to the door.
Troy’s diagnostic was still running, so he left it and went to see what Kipp had found. “You’d better not be naked,” he said, but when he entered the back area, Kipp had a glow in his eyes that said he was focused on work. Troy approached the lab table. “What is it?”
“They have endo- and exoskeletons,” said Kipp, pulling back to let Troy have a look. “But not in any way I’ve ever seen or read about.”
“So they’re flying cave bat wasp turtles,” said Troy, peering at the thing Kipp had sliced open with a laser scalpel. The creature had rocklike plates on its back, through which its wings protruded. The wings were attached to a spine that allowed it to fly and pivot like a bat. The head was flat, and it had a large stinger rather than a tail.
“Well, obviously. What else were we expecting?”
Troy glanced at him. Kipp was almost glaring at the creature now.
“You don’t sound your positive, I’m-going-to-get-lucky self,” said Troy.
Kipp shook his head without even smiling. He pointed to the creature. “I’m supposed to figure out what to do with this how?”
“If it’s part wasp…”
“It’s not ‘part’ anything. It’s totally alien.” Kipp ran a hand through his long hair again, dragging it out of his eyes, and Troy had to look away from him.
“Irene probably felt we were the best biologically qualified people to handle this,” said Troy. All other members of their group specialized more in rocks and storms and soils for crops.
Kipp snorted.
“About all we’re biologically qualified for is nothing she wants us doing to pass the time. A botanist and an entomologist can’t handle this.”
“Well, it’s definitely not a plant, I can tell you that.” Troy squinted at it. “You cut open the back end yet and see what the venom is?”
“Running it through for analysis,” said Kipp. “Wanna see what it eats when it’s not going after us?”
Before Troy could answer, Kipp made several cuts until he discovered the stomach and intestines. A pale, greyish paste lurked there, oozing out onto the table. It was more or less unrecognizable to Troy, but there was enough of something there for Kipp to let out a low whistle.
“What?” asked Troy.
“OriginCo’s going to buy this planet the moment we get back to the ship,” said Kipp.
“Why?”
“Maybe before we even get back, if you get the com up.”
“What, Kipp?”
Kipp smiled. His eyes, a strange mix of blue and green at the moment, found Troy’s. “You used my name. I’m touched.”
Troy was about ready to strangle him.
“Spit it out,” he snapped.
Kipp’s grin widened. “Wouldn’t think you’d want me to.”
Troy turned away and Kipp grabbed his arm.
“Wait a moment.”
Troy turned back and pulled free from Kipp’s hand. He knew he should move farther away but could not seem to make himself. If Kipp was genuinely trying to initiate something…But Troy could not chance it. Kipp was too jovial to be serious. And if Troy was reported again in less than a year, he would lose his job for sure.
“You probably missed it. I get it, not your thing. But they clearly don’t eat plants, right?”
“No plant matter in that,” said Troy.
Kipp leaned back on the table, looking irritatingly proud and casually tempting at once. “But I did find partially digested cave leech.”
It dawned on Troy immediately.
“The cave leech pest problem,” he said. He peered down at the specimen. “Even with the stinger, they could probably genetically modify that away in a year or so.”
“Less, with the right team. Think we’ll get a bonus for this?”
Troy couldn’t help it. He laughed.
“This is going to make OriginCo a lot of money,” said Kipp as Troy turned back to the door.
“That’s great for OriginCo. But we were all just doing our jobs, so I doubt they’ll want to give us any extra for that. I’ve got diagnostics to check on, and I bet the database will have similar creatures for you to compare that thing to.”
He left before Kipp could object that Troy had told him what to do.
* * * *
“Hungry?” asked Troy, sitting on the edge of the med bed and biting the end off a high-energy bar, white chocolate blueberry flavored. He tossed a second on the bed next to him.
Kipp groaned and crossed to grab the bar, yawning and scratching the back of his head before opening it. It had been a solid three hours and Troy had gotten almost nowhere. By the looks of it, Kipp hadn’t had much luck either.
“Diagnostics say the com is fried from passing through the atmosphere to land,” said Troy, as though Kipp was interested to know. “Also, shields in general are hovering right around the do-not-fly range, but I loaded a schematic for how to use the portable one to enhance it enough to get us out of here. We should have taken the shuttle equipped for extreme scenarios down here.”
Kipp picked at his bar, pulling off a line of white chocolate flavored drizzle.
“Technically I know how to fix the com, too, but I don’t have enough supplies for both it and the shields, so shields it is.” Troy paused. “Some other shuttle functions got fried, too—”
“You can open up around me,” said Kipp. “There’s no one else around.”
Troy stopped, blinked. Kipp actually looked tired.
“What, you don’t like the sound of my voice?” asked Troy, watching Kipp smile.
“You’re not talking to me, you’re talking at me,” said Kipp, shooting a blue-eyed sad look at him.
Troy glanced away immediately, wary of where this might go. “Tell me you found something.”
Kipp sighed and flopped down on the med bed. He stretched out on his back behind Troy, only inches away, but though Troy stiffened, he didn’t move. He didn’t want to let Kipp force him to stand.
“Nothing in the database is close enough to really help, and everything I’ve run comes back saying the crash pens are the best way to treat it that we have available here. So nothing.”
“Irene’s going to be pissed.”
“She’s handled it well,” said Kipp. “Before you transferred down here, I was on a landing party where the leader made a couple shitty decisions. We lost an agronomist. Three others had to stay a few days in the med bay.”
“Shit,
” said Troy before he could stop himself. On the Heavenhawk I he had been spoiled; the best of the best rarely made poor calls. But he remembered what it was like down on the lower numbers. He had been on a party where someone had lost an arm.
“Yeah, it was bad.” Kipp flicked the bar’s wrapper on the floor. “We all had to be questioned. Most of us got transferred down to Heavenhawk VI or VII.”
“But you made the cut,” said Troy, glancing back at him. Kipp had a hand behind his head and Troy had the urge to lean over him and kiss him. He resisted.
“Don’t sound so shocked. I didn’t screw up.”
Troy turned to face forward again, jaw set. He knew what was coming. Any moment now Kipp would ask what he had done to fall from the Heavenhawk I all the way down to IV. Everyone had asked at some point. Troy avoided and dodged and felt sour about it each time he was asked and had to remember. He braced himself to tell Kipp off; if he couldn’t fuck him, that would be the next best thing.
“So are we just going to talk about shit like this or are we going to do something with the time?”
Troy blinked.
“You’re not going to ask about my demotion?”
Kipp grinned at the low shuttle ceiling.
“I already know what you did. Sometimes I get bored and hack the personnel data files.”
“You what?” asked Troy.
Kipp’s gaze slid over to him. Blue, very blue. “Why do you think I’ve been coming on to you specifically?”
“You’re a bastard trying to get me written up again,” said Troy without thinking.
Kipp put the hand not behind his head to his chest. “Ouch. You really think so little of me?” He paused. “No, I don’t want to hear. Well, shit. I’ve been trying to get your attention for months now.”
“That’s what you call it?” Troy tried to be angry rather than turned on. Kipp had looked him up and seen he’d been demoted for inappropriate sexual conduct. Troy hadn’t known his superior didn’t want to be kissed—he’d seemed to be leading Troy on. He’d always suspected he was demoted because they had been seen, and his superior had been embarrassed.
“Oh come on. I knew you were into men from your records.”
Survey Mission Page 2