Death Drop (60 page)

Rilek didn’t answer. There wasn’t time to consider other solutions. Kriegel’s call was more of an ‘FYI’ than anything else, and the admiral just nodded his head in the dim blue light and gripped the underside of his chair. The acceleration of gravity pushed down on their shoulders as the ship flared. Green cyclones leapt from the sand and swirled around the bow as the engine cowls swiveled down and directed their jets of exhaust at the ground below. The
Lodestar
trembled as the stern settled into the soft terrain. Kriegel lowered the front half of the ship with a deft touch, killing the engines the instant the entire keel was level. Of course, the old warhorse wasn’t designed to sit on land without its skids down and it rolled several degrees to starboard, moaning a deep, haunting reproach as she settled uncomfortably into her gritty cradle.

Rilek sprung first out of his harness. “Ensign Nori, help Mia get the injured to the infirmary. Major Von Holt, lend them a hand, and then you and Nori meet me on the main deck, Stateroom A.”

Otto snapped to without answering, happy to be of some use and eager to get the word on Malo and Blink. He was surrounded by Noris again—ten this time—and as he slid his hands under Malo, something occurred to him: since arriving on the
Lodestar
, he was the only one in his crew of Dissenters who hadn’t been incapacitated. The thought made him uneasy.

Doctor Weiloonyu was adamant that Booktu stand down as he tried to squeeze into the ring of his repeating ship mates. The big gunner hung his head slightly and withdrew, but it didn’t matter. Hauling over a thousand pounds of unconscious Moxen to the infirmary was easier than Otto thought it would be, and he was thankful for the extra two Noris this time. The odd group shuffled through the doors and plunked Malo down on an exam table. His massive arms and legs drooped over the sides and rested firmly on the deck and his curled horns stretched across the aisle, nearly touching the foot of the bed above him.

“We don’t see many as big as Malo in our travels,” Dr. Weiloonyu said, a little embarrassed. “I’d ask if I could get a table made for someone his size, but I’m sure Kreigel will be busy fixing the hull so we can get back into space as soon as possible, so we’ll just have to make do.” She was holding a glowing tablet above Malo and moving it carefully over his body as she examined the data readout on the screen. “Vitals seem to be normal…”

“Doctor,” Otto said with hesitation, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Okay,” she said, “but first you have to stop calling me ‘Doctor’ or ‘Doctor Weiloonyu.’ It’s Mia.”

“Right,” Otto said, looking down at the ground coyly, “Mia.

“Just before the Berzerkers attacked our base, Malo mentioned something. He said that the Mewlatai had injected him with some sort of fluid. Blink was actually looking for a syringe to draw some blood when the explosions started. I forgot all about it in light of what’s happened since then, but...”

“What is it, Major?”

“It’s just that Malo is one of the best men I’ve ever served with, as honorable as they come, and, well…I just thought…I just hope this mysterious injection might have something to do with his behavior, that’s all.”

Mia arched her eyebrows and studied Otto carefully. “Have you mentioned this to the admiral?”

“No,” Otto said.

“Well, it may very well be that the Mewlatai gave him something that’s affecting his ability to reason, or then again, maybe not. I wouldn’t say anything to the admiral until I’ve run some tests and have medical data to support or dismiss the theory. No need to worry anyone prematurely.”

“Okay,” Otto said uneasily, “I guess I can see your point.”

“Trust me, Major, I’ve been with the admiral for a long time, and he doesn’t care much about theories. He’s more interested in facts.” Mia stared at him with a ‘that’s that’ look in her big, almond-shaped eyes.

“All right, Doctor—er—Mia. I understand. Is there any chance I can check on Artie?” Otto was looking around the infirmary at the empty beds and noticed that Malo was the only patient in the room. “Where is he?”

“Oh, I figured he’d be more comfortable in one of the hyperbaric chambers,” Mia said as she motioned at the big gray cylinders over her shoulder, “just in case there were more injured—it’ll be virtually silent. I taped up the window so the light wouldn’t assault his senses when he finally comes around.” The whole situation was beginning to gnaw at Otto’s gut, and the look must have been written all over his whiskered face.

“Isn’t the admiral expecting you?” Mia said as she turned away and continued scanning Malo with her tablet. Otto stood for a moment without replying and then turned slowly and walked toward the exit. When he reached the threshold, he spun around and looked back at the Moxen.

“Don’t worry, Major, I’ll take good care of your friends.” Mia was smiling her reassurance, but it wasn’t enough to put Otto at ease.

Otto moved quickly down the main deck and through the wide open door to Stateroom A. The interior had been sterilized by the superheated air that flowed into the compartment during reentry, and there was no trace of the contents that had once filled the room; three-and-a-half walls, a floor, and a ceiling were all that remained. Dry, hot air surged through the enormous gash in the hull and filled the space like a vaporous scavenger hoping to find a scrap of material left unincinerated by the stratosphere. He moved to the hole and peered over the edge. Several incarnations of Nori were busy building a scaffold just a few feet below the lip of the tear, and Otto could see Rilek talking to a squat, round figure whose face and exposed limbs were just a few shades lighter than the green desert sand they were standing in. The green fellow jabbed a long finger toward the damage, and Rilek turned and motioned for the major to join them.

Otto jumped to the top level of the scaffolding. He gripped the outermost rail then leaned over the bar at the waist and flipped head over tail, landing softly on the next level. He repeated his acrobatic feat several times—moving laterally along the rail to avoid the smattering of Noris on each level—and was soon padding across the sun-baked sand.

“Impressive,” Rilek said as Otto stopped in front of them. “I wonder what other skills you might have.”

“How can I help?” Otto said.

“Can you weld?” the green character croaked brusquely.

“Major, meet Kriegel, my chief engineer,” Rilek said without taking his eyes off Otto.

“Pleased to meet”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you are, but I need to know if you can weld?” Kriegel said.

“Yes,” Otto replied.

“Now, the question is, are you any damn good at it?” the engineer said under his breath as he turned to spit in the sand.

“Rigs and equipment in the Aquatics Brigade have to be just as air- and water-tight as your precious ship there,” Otto said as he nodded back toward the gash in the
Lodestar.
“But whether I’m any good behind a welder shouldn’t matter much. The way the
Triton
ripped through your hull, I’d say your
engineering
is holding this bucket together with rust and bubble gum.”

Rilek arched his brow in amusement at Otto’s reply. Kriegel was caught off guard and stared in surprise at the major through two large spheroids set wide apart on his broad face.

“Care for some?” Otto said, reaching into a pouch on his belt and removing several sticks of gum. “I believe it’s spearmint.”

“Ha!” Rilek bellowed. “I think the Major’s your man.” He was smiling under his hooked nose and shaking with quiet laughter, and Otto couldn’t help feeling a surge of pride. Kriegel’s scowl softened a little at the sound of the admiral’s chuckling.

“He’ll do,” Kriegel croaked.

“Major, the chief doesn’t mean to be rude, but we needed to be certain of your abilities. As you pointed out, the
Triton
ripped a rather large hole in our hull; the largest, actually, since I sailed her from the shipyard years ago. We’re not sure we have enough patch material to seal her back up, and that means we can’t afford any mistakes. Your welds have to be perfect.”

“Understood, Admiral,” Otto said. “They’ll be perfect.”

“Chief,” Rilek said.

“Move the patch panels from the cargo hold to the scaffolding,” Kriegel instructed. “We have four load-bots in the hold; just tell’em what you need, and they’ll follow your orders. And before you ask, only one of ‘em is outfitted to weld—that’s why we need you.”

“And you?” Otto asked. “Won’t you be joining us?”

“Unfortunately,
your
friend smashed the helm to pieces, so unless you know advanced mechanical engineering and how to reprogram the flight computer, I suggest you get to work.” Kriegel was glaring at Otto, and now he knew the reason for the engineer’s caustic treatment: Malo had almost killed them all and had done his part to help wreck the
Lodestar
.

“Fair enough,” Otto said flatly, then turned and headed for the cargo hold.

***

Even with the load-bots, hauling the heavy sections of replacement hull from one side of the ship to the other, hoisting them into place, and then welding them into position was exhausting. Much to Otto’s relief, he wasn’t left to handle the monumental task on his own: three Noris toiled alongside him and the machines. So far, Otto had seen Nori divide himself into ten individuals, and he pictured three of them helping Kriegel, three more in the infirmary with Dr. Weiloonyu, and the remaining Nori preparing charts for their departure.

The sun had crept slowly to its highest point, and even in the shade of the stateroom, the heat was sweltering. Otto wiped the grime from under his flipped-up welding hood with the back of his forearm as Kriegel inspected his work and Rilek looked on.

“It’ll do,” he grunted. He was trying to look unimpressed in front of the admiral, and especially of Otto, as he ran three of his long, suction-disk tipped fingers over the seams of each panel. In actuality, Otto’s work was flawless, and the welds were every bit as good as if Kriegel had done them himself. The gruff engineer stood back, crossing his arms over his belly and looked disapprovingly at the large gap that still hung above their heads. “We just don’t have enough panels. I don’t know how much useable material we’ll get if we cut up the skiffs and the major’s little fighter in the docking bay, but it’s the only thing left to do.”

“Do your best, Chief”

“Admiral!” one of the Noris interrupted as he dashed over and stopped at attention. “I’ve picked up a beacon!” Otto shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. He knew that
this
particular Nori hadn’t picked up a beacon: he’d been hoisting panels and welding next to Otto the entire morning. He deduced that another Nori—probably the one standing on the bridge and charged with communications duty—had discovered the signal and that all of the ensign’s replicas shared some sort of mind connection.

“Well, of course they share a connection,”
Otto thought,
“why wouldn’t they?”

“Where’s the beacon coming from?” Rilek said.

“Nineteen-and-a-half kilometers to the south.”

Rilek raised his left arm to stroke his chin as his right arm crossed his chest and supported the other at the elbow. “Could be a trap… Chief, what’s the chance of patching the hull with pieces of the skiffs?”

“Experience tells me to leave one of them intact in case something goes wrong and we need to evacuate. With that in mind, there’s no way we can seal that hole.”

“Then that settles it,” Rilek said as he dropped his arms to his sides. “Major, take your Hellion fighter and Nori” Otto gave the admiral a questioning look. “Make it three Noris, and recon the beacon. Remember, we’re looking for scrap material, not trouble. If you spot any sign of the
Triton
or any other hostiles, get the hell back here double-time, got it?”

“Aye, Admiral,” Otto said with a gleam in his eye. Although he didn’t mind welding, reconnaissance was one of Otto’s military specialties; a field mission was exactly what he needed right now to truly feel useful. He twirled his finger in the air to tell Nori it was time to go and they started for the exit.

“Major,” Rilek called after him, “if there are unfriendlies out there, try not to give away our position, eh?”

“Don’t worry, Admiral. You can’t count on me.”

“Yes, I believe I can,” Rilek said with a wink. Otto smiled briefly at the vote of confidence and then disappeared through the portal toward the docking bay.

***

It was always hard to keep track of time when you jetted from planet to planet, especially when you were on a world that didn’t seem to have any civilization to speak of. But, by the look of the sun, Otto guessed it was a few hours past midday as he and Nori skimmed the green dunes in search of the transmission coming from the north, and hopefully something they could use to complete the patch job on the
Lodestar.
“Major,” Nori said as he pointed out of the viewing pane at a line of dark smoke on the horizon.

“How far to the target?” Otto asked. Nori glanced down at the controls in front of him.

“Three kilometers.”

“Throttle down to twenty-five percent, and set us in the sand a click out,” Otto said.

“In the mood for more fun in the sun, Major?” Nori quipped.

“We don’t know who these chaps might be, and I don’t want to tell ‘em we’re here by coming in too hot. Better to scale the engines back and hike a bit to stay undetected.”

“Aye, Major.”

Otto took his leave, and as the Hellion approached one kilometer from the beacon, Ensign Nori pulled the throttles back. The engines were all but silent beneath the hissing wind as he gently set the ship down as ordered. The lights on the control panel were still fading when Otto returned to the cockpit with a machine gun over one shoulder and a large duffel bag over the other. He set the bag down, unzipped the top, and plunged his hands inside. He pulled out two more automatics, handing both to Nori, then fished out a third gun and several extra clips of ammunition. “Do you want to…you know…multiply or whatever, or should I put this stuff back in the bag and you can carry it by yourself?” Nori gave Otto a sly grin and then blurred into three. Now that his entire recon team was assembled, Otto flipped his webbed hand over and motioned toward the door. “After you, Ensigns.” All three Noris nodded politely as they filed past Otto onto the small main deck, then disembarked down the extended plank to the right and marched into the desert.