Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Sweat trickled down the back of Rylando’s neck as he sent soothing thoughts to Otak, still hiding in his pouch, and to Mariposa, perched on the far side of the airsled’s roof. He sensed the girl’s kinkajou—it miraculously survived the landing—but he couldn’t tell where it was.
No circulation made the lobby’s air smell stale and increasingly hot. The heavy, indestructible GSAR uniform and the warm rat on his chest weren’t helping.
Stramlo, perched nearby on a chunk of denscrete, hugged his messenger bag like a shield. He twitched with each noise, whether from the ruined lobby or from Po swearing.
Rylando was better at projecting calm for the sake of his animals, but not so good at stopping himself from worrying about them or Stramlo’s daughter.
Or Taz. So far, he’d not been able to make mental contact with his team and had no way to talk to his partner.
The overheated lift coil cooked the airsled’s comms when it died.
The room’s emergency lights were plenty bright enough to illuminate the depth of their predicament.
All the ceiling decorations and a third of the roof supports now littered the floor.
The beat-up airsled sat in the middle of the lobby.
At least the final lurch had shed the heavy piece of denscrete that had weighed it down.
More caved-in rubble from the building’s roof layer blocked both ends of the lift lobby.
The corner of a giant block of denscrete protruded from the lift shaft behind him to his left.
That entire wall bulged out from the pressure.
Pelvannor stood in the open doorway of the airsled, alternating between holding the beamer on the prisoners as ordered, and following Po’s subsequent orders to lift or move things as he pawed through the sled’s contents.
So far, they’d found and unloaded two bins of food and water, medical supplies, water-protection suits, climbing gear, and one box of spare parts.
Rylando had already told them the airsled’s only useful tools for freeing them from the lobby cave-in were shovels and pry bars, but it had been a waste of breath.
Po appeared in the doorway, brandishing a wand-like tool with the yellow and red GSAR logo. “What’s this?”
“A spectrum analyzer for materials composition.” He winced when Po carelessly tossed it onto the parts box on the floor. Taz had spent five days repairing and customizing it to work better than the original version.
Otak once again alerted him to the explosives scent. Unfortunately, Rylando couldn’t give the rat the usual food reward. A thought of praise would have to do.
It didn’t take an astro-engineer to figure out that the source was Stramlo’s messenger bag. Too small to be a regular Kem-X packet, but maybe samples? No clue why he’d been keeping it in his storage unit.
Po’s hard-shell backpack, which he still wore, must have high-value items, or he’d have given it up. Pelvannor’s heavy bag had probably held valuables, too, which explained why he’d yelled at her when she’d tossed it out of the airsled.
He still couldn’t rule out the possibility that Stramlo and Po had more than just bad luck in common.
Movement caught his eye. Tzima, Jhidelle’s kinkajou, was now on top of the airsled. He was glad he’d managed to open a vent for her so she could slip inside the airsled’s cab, but now she was an added worry.
He cautiously reached out with his talent.
Instead of encountering the animal’s mind, he felt the presence of another, stronger directive, directing her gaze.
Jhidelle must be connected to the animal’s senses.
The best he could do was ask Tzima to hide and hope the girl would take the hint.
Po was the type to break or kill things to take out his frustrations.
Rylando wished he was a stronger minder, like Jhidelle apparently was.
He’d developed training techniques to compensate, but they were no help now that he needed to connect with his own animals.
To find out if Taz was okay. He’d been a rock-brain for not being more wary or paying attention to her instincts.
If they lived through this, he planned to tell Captain Bhayrip he’d ordered her into this mess.
Otherwise, they’d both get demoted for going in understaffed and getting caught in criminal games.
After two more “what’s this” queries, Po jumped out of the airsled and stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at Rylando. “We need your partner in her mech suit. Get her up here, now.”
Rylando stopped himself from rolling his eyes, but just barely. “I’m not a telepath. Neither is she. The airsled’s comms are still as dead as the lift coil. I’ll need my earwire.”
Po turned his glare on Pelvannor. “You’re the báichī who threw it away instead of keeping it. Find it!”
Even though stoic Pelvannor didn’t react to Po’s insults, Rylando felt a moment of sympathy for her. She had an even worse boss than he did, and that was saying something.
Po’s perpetually outraged attitude reminded Rylando of his favorite fantasy adventure serial, where the emperor’s evil daughter could never understand why the universe didn’t dance at her command. Supporting characters who told her as much often had tragically short lives.
After a few moments, Pelvannor came back and handed Po the earwire. He examined it, then tossed it to Rylando. “Route the audio through your percomp. Call your partner. No subvocalizing.”
Rylando adhered it to his jaw and tapped to connect, then spoke aloud. “Subcaptain, give me a sitrep, please.” He hated hearing his own amplified voice.
Taz didn’t answer. Hatya wouldn’t unless she thought he was talking to her. It wasn’t yet time for check-in.
After several long moments, he tried again. He shook his head. “I can send a ping–”
Po interrupted. “Try again!” His face flushed in anger.
Rylando kept a tight rein on his temper.
“The subfloor is incalloy and denscrete. It’s probably blocking the signal.
” Rylando didn’t mention the possibility that Taz couldn’t answer because she was hurt or worse.
Stramlo was barely hanging on as it was.
Hearing his daughter might be in trouble might push him over the edge.
Po stomped his foot. “Goddamnit!” The next thing Rylando knew, Po was aiming a stunner at his throat. “I fucking hate liars!”
Pain filled Rylando's world. He scraped off the super-heated earwire as he fell to his knees, jerking like a stranded fish. Grimly, he rode out the agony, knowing if he collapsed, he might crush Otak. Knowing the rat might not survive the stunner spillover.
Taz ran a brief scan to confirm that the Kem-X package she was looking at was the same as the last fourteen.
At least now, the thick walls and armored floor made sense. So did forcing Stramlo, who likely had explosives experience from his mining engineering job, to help destroy the node. What still didn’t make sense was why.
Galactic civilization lived and died by data.
The Concordance’s net boasted multitudes of ways to keep and recover data on its five-hundred-plus member planets.
Millions of deep-space comms relayed it across civilization.
Even newly opened frontier planets had three or four hypercube nodes.
Long-settled planets had dozens. Destroying just one made no sense.
Perhaps the act itself was the message. Revenge against the town, or against the famous politician who’d called it home, or a grievance with the galaxy.
Right now, she had more immediate problems. She fast-walked back to where she’d left Jhidelle and the animals in their crates.
No way to phrase it diplomatically. “I think the whole facility is wired with explosives.”
Jhidelle sat huddled in her coat between the crates. Her eyes rounded. “What are you going to do?”
Taz stepped out of her suit and crouched down to face the girl.
This conversation was too important to have barriers between them.
“That depends somewhat on you.” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder toward the rows of equipment.
“In the good-news column, the timers are powered, but they aren’t counting down.
The packets all look uniform and straightforward, meaning they can be disarmed.
In the bad-news column, if the spacing and placement hold true, there’s enough Kem-X to launch the entire town into orbit along with the building.
Also, just because the timers aren’t running now doesn’t mean someone can’t change that. ”
Jhidelle’s expression darkened. “Someone like Po.” Her eyebrows lifted in realization. “That’s why he wanted my father.”
“Probably.” Taz was glad not to have to broach that subject. “Time isn’t our friend right now. Our choices aren’t good, either.” She held up her thumb. “Option A, we go back to the lift shaft and wait to be rescued. Captain Wa’ara will start searching for us there.”
Moyo suddenly stood up in her crate and started whimpering. One of the cats yowled. Shen stood, ears pivoting, nose working.
Even as Taz was about to ask, Jhidelle’s eyes jittered momentarily. “They think Subcaptain Delroinn is hurt.”
Taz shoved her feelings in a box. “How bad?”
“Give me a minute.” The girl closed her eyes.
“Tzima’s vision is bad, but I think Po is holding something like it’s a hand weapon.
My father is sitting on something. The Subcaptain is on his knees, bent over, hugging himself, shaking his head like he has water in his ears.
Po is saying ‘another lie, and I’ll stun you again.
’” She opened her eyes, her expression a mixture of concern and anger.
“Po is an asshole.” Taz spat. “Stunners hurt like fire, but they’re not lethal. It’ll disrupt Delroinn’s minder talent for a bit.” She pointed to the crates. “Could you help his team understand that he’s not hurt bad but can’t talk to them right now?”
Taz could see Jhidelle’s success when the animals began to quiet down.