*****
Gateway shuttle G7 settled down on Landing Pad C with a rattling thump. The pad was one of three located a kilometer or so northwest of Farside. Before Alpha Detachment could begin unstrapping themselves, the bumps and bangs of the crawler snuggling up to the ship could be felt through the hull.
Lieutenant Johnny Winger got on the crewnet. “Detachment, button up and fall out! Assemble at the airlock in two minutes, with your gear. We’re going inside.”
Detachment Alpha was all there: M’Bela, Nguyen, Tsukota (now recovered from his experience at Engebbe), Barnes, Reaves and D’Nunzio. Winger knew they were as ready as any squad of nanotroopers could be but would it be enough? The tasking from Major Kraft, straight from Paris the Major had said, was straightforward and to the point.
“It’s a recon mission, no more. Do not engage anything or anyone without authorization from me,” Kraft had warned them in the final briefing at Table Top. “CINCQUANT has worked out a coordinated op with CINCSPACE. This is Frontier Corps territory so we’re not stepping on anybody’s little toes out here. But everybody wants to know what the Chinese are up to. We’ve got intel that Red Hammer’s on site and that they’ve discovered something unusual…nobody really knows what but there are about a million opinions. Could be another one of those sphere-things we keep turning up. Operation Moonglow is tasked to find out what they’re digging for in that excavation near the base.”
Mighty Mite waddled up to Winger in her hypersuit, lugging her helmet and a satchel of gear. “Opposed entry, Skipper? We deploying ANAD?”
Winger made a quick decision. “No, this is supposed to be friendly territory…just a courtesy call on Farside. Big smiles for the astros and the eggheads. Plus I want to borrow one of their hoppers. Tian Jia’s several thousand kilometers away, on the near side and I don’t much feel like walking. But keep your embeds warmed up, ready to deploy, just in case. And get Superfly up and operating. I want some eyes looking over the horizon at all times, while we’re here. It’s a cinch the Chinese know something’s up.”
“I’m on it, Skipper,” said Sheila Reaves. Reaves was DPS1 for the Detachment. She extracted one of the entomopters from her sack and fingered it into operation. As soon as the airlock opened, she’d step outside for a moment, and fling ‘Fly into the air…except there was no air. But Winger wanted eyes and ‘Fly had lots of them, on every conceivable band.
They boarded the crawler and were cycling through the lockout at Galileo Wing in minutes.
Right away, they ran into an official reception committee, headed up by a swarthy man with a thick black moustache and ramrod posture. He saluted and stuck out a hand.
“Vijay Ramachandran, base director. You must be Lieutenant Winger. Welcome to Farside. These men and women are my staff—“ One by one, Ramachandran introduced chiefs of sections, lab directors and assorted functionaries. “We’ve got our canteen all set up for a briefing. But first—“ here Ramachandran’s face broke into a bright toothy smile—“ we eat. Come—“
The canteen was done up in South Seas decorations, with palm fronds swaying in artificial breezes, ocean surf on speakers, and tiki birds chittering away in the corner. A hand painted sign announced Fiji Islands…380,000 km. The arrow pointed straight up.
They dined, snacked and drank for a while, then got down to business.
“Our mission is purely recon,” Winger told the director. “And it’s supposed to be covert. We just need to borrow one of your hoppers to drop us off near Tian Jia. We’ll take it from there.”
The word ‘covert’ brought another smile to Ramachandran’s face. The Punjabi cosmologist had a big booming laugh. “Lieutenant, there aren’t any secrets here on the Moon. You can bet the Chinese know all about you already. Both sides keep a close eye on the other.”
“Actually, I’m counting on that, sir,” Winger told him. He slurped up the last dregs of his pinkish beverage and twirled the little parasol in his hand. “Our cover—such as it is—is seismological survey. We’ll be making little hops across the surface, all the way to Copernicus, to drop off what will look like instrument packs. Our last hop will be some distance from Tian Jia. From there, Operation Moonglow really gets underway.”
One of Ramachandran’s astronomers, Stephen Welks had a slight sneer on his lips. “I’ve heard you nano guys can look like anything with your bots…dust, rocks, birds, meteors. Is that true?”
Winger smiled his best recruiting-poster smile. “Quantum Corps has many tactics and techniques to accomplish our mission, Dr. Welks. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.”
The Detachment was shown to its quarters after the briefing. There weren’t enough bunks and rooms so Winger settled for a bivouac in the Kepler Wing wardroom.
“Dinner’s at 1800 hours, right back at Fiji Island. Some kind of Polynesian chicken dish tonight, I’m told…pineapple, peppers, cashews, snow peas…whatever the last shuttle from Gateway brought us…chef Ed throws it all in the pot,” Ramachandran told them. “Sweet dreams.”
In his own tent, Winger opened a coupler link with the Dana bot in his head. He decided to ignore the ANAD bot in his shoulder capsule. The two had been sniping at each other the last week and Winger had heard enough. It was like kids arguing over who got the top bunk at bedtime.
“Dana, are you there?”
Nanotroopers Episode 13: Small is All! Page 2