DS02 Night of the Dragonstar (18 page)

“I think she’s got it,” Mikaela said. “I can take the three OTVs overland to the ruins. It will be slow going, but we can make it.”

Ian considered his options and realized he had none at all. What Becky said made sense. For the time being, setting up a temporary base of operations in the Saurian ruins would probably be their best tactic
—
at least until Copernicus Base could get some help in to them. “All right, that sounds reasonable. Let’s get straight on who’s going now and who will be waiting around for cab rides,” he said.

Several minutes passed as the assignments were worked out. Mikaela climbed into the lead OTV and headed toward the ruins with seventeen others. That left eight behind, including Becky (who had insisted on remaining with Ian), plus Ian and his two sharpshooters.

Zabriskie took two paleontologists into the equipment bay of the ’thopter along with one of the survey camp guards at shotgun. Ian reminded her to contact Sergeant Kinsey at the tactical base headquarters and tell him of the change in plans. It was always a good idea to keep everybody abreast of what was happening. The ’thopter lifted off clumsily and smudged out into the pitch-black artificial night. That left Ian, Becky, his two gunners, and four scientists. They would have to tough it out until the ’thopter could get back for the next run ... and the next.

As the whine and whoomp of the ’thopter echoed away and were swallowed up by the dense foliage of the surrounding jungle, Ian became of aware of how deathly still it had suddenly become. With a rush of memory, he was brought back to his last tour on board the Dragonstar, and the same sickening feeling of being cut off in the darkness of the Mesozoic heartland now enfolded him like the leathery wings of a great Pteranodon.

“All right,” he said, unhooking an electric torch from his belt and flicking it on. “Let’s take what cover we can in the domes. Murphy, you and Jalecki set up some flanking cover, and I’ll cover the third point. Come on, let’s get moving.”

Everyone closed ranks and moved toward the closest geodesic dome, which had been used as a maintenance hangar for the OTVs. As the biologists filed inside and the sharpshooters took up positions on each side of the structure, Becky stopped and held on to Ian’s arm.

“I’d like to stay out here with you, if you don’t mind.”

Ian’s first impulse was to say something authoritarian and protective, but something deeper inside cut off that almost automatic response. He recalled vividly how this woman had trekked through this hellish place with him and never batted an eye. There was no way he could pull that bullshit on her now. Besides, he could certainly use the company.

“All right,” he said. “That would be nice.”

As he whispered the words, there was a fierce rustling in the underbrush beyond the perimeter of the camp, and a plaintive, bestial cry rose up to crack the sky.

* * *

Mishima Takamura moved quickly from the elevator that opened onto the temple access corridor. He was the last to leave the research lab in the alien crew section, and his paranoia quotient was high. During the entire descent, he kept imagining that the device would suddenly halt in its shaft and trap him in its stifling smallness. He had never been a big fan of tight spaces, but he had forced himself to conquer his fears for his once-in-a-lifetime chance to go into space.

But the reason for his paranoia went far beyond a case of claustrophobia.

The alien ship was definitely coming to life. While he carried some vital instruments out of the lab, placing them on the power cart he now guided down the empty corridor, he could not help but notice how different things were in the alien section. Displays, consoles and devices that had been dark, silent, and dormant since their arrival were suddenly being activated.

But what was worse, what was more bizarre, was the way it was all happening with a total disregard for the humans on board. The ship seemed to be going about its preordained tasks as though there were no intruders present.

What did it mean? What was happening on board the Dragonstar? Mishima was convinced that all the strange events were connected, that everything pointed toward some larger event. He had his own ideas as to what might be going on but just the thought of it made him uneasy, and in a most unscientific manner he forced himself not to think about it.

The final threshold, beyond which lay the Saurian temple, yawned ahead of him, and Mishima quickened his pace. The sooner he was free of the restrictive corridors and the automated alien machinery, the better he would feel. The cart glided along silently ahead of him as he cleared the doorway. He paused to take a breath, then moved through the temple to the outside.

Using whatever debris and materials they could find, the survivors had thrown up barricades along the top of the steps leading to the temple. It reminded Mishima of the Saurians building their great wall. There was an irony there somewhere, but he was too tired to search for it.

He could see Phineas Kemp walking along the front line of defense, the pretty young journalist in tow, pausing to talk to some of the IASA staffers now and then, but primarily playing up the role of a field marshal inspecting his troops.

The scene was almost laughable, and it demonstrated to Mishima what a complete asshole the colonel was. There was something about Kemp that Mishima didn’t like. He hadn’t respected the man from the first moment they’d met.

Pushing the cart of equipment over to a group of his assistants, he helped them unload and connect up the gear. The auxiliary generators would always be useful, but right now they would get the monitoring equipment running. He had not gotten far along in the setup when he was interrupted by none other than Kemp himself.

“What’s going on here, Doctor?” the colonel asked in a noncommittal tone of voice.

Mishima looked up at Kemp and made an effort to be cordial. There was no sense in causing a scene in front of everyone. “We were able to get out some of our monitoring equipment, and I’d like to know why we haven’t been contacted by Copernicus Base.”

Kemp smiled ingenuously. “So would I, Doctor. How do you propose to find out?”

“I’m going to try to activate it using short wave equipment. We had an EMP effect that wiped out the portable gear, but this stuff from the lab was apparently shielded by being in the alien crew section.” Mishima didn’t feel like explaining himself and his techniques to a man like Kemp. He considered ways to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

One of his assistants came to his side. “Doctor, I’ve got something on the screen. “

Without another word, Mishima turned away, following the woman to a portable monitor that had been set up near the end of the barricade where it reached the temple wall. “What is it?” Mishima asked, looking at a blurry image on the screen.

“It’s a view of the hull from one of the cameras near the docking bay. It’s attached to a piece of the hull’s superstructure,” the lab technician said. “We were able to activate it with the short-wave application. But there’s something causing an almost impossible level of interference outside on the hull.”

“Any idea what’s causing it?” asked Mishima.

“Not really.”

Phineas Kemp, who had followed Mishima, looked at the screen with an intense expression on his face. “Wait a minute. If that’s the docking bay, then where the hell is it?”

“What?” Mishima asked, looking more closely at the screen. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the docking bay’s
not there.
It’s gone.”

Kemp said. “And where’re all the ships we had out there? Weren’t there two lunar shuttles on their way out? Where the hell are they?”

The colonel had a good point, Mishima admitted. He looked pointedly at his assistant. “Are you sure you have the right camera input?”

“No question about it, Doctor.”

Something was definitely wrong out there. The docking bay had been a specially constructed rig built so that IASA ships could arrive and depart the Dragonstar with a minimum of difficulty. It had been attached by powerful electromagnets that would have prevented the docking assembly from being blown off the hull even by high explosives.

And now it seemed as though the docking bay had simply vanished.

“It looks to me like we’re cut off from the outside of the ship,” Kemp said. “And we’ve received more bad news from the tactical command.”

Briefly, Kemp explained to Mishima and his assistants the problems and rescue operations at the survey camp and the Saurian ruins. “It seems to me,” he said, “that we basically have two options, especially if we can expect no immediate help from the outside. One, we can stay here and fight a war of attrition with the Saurians if they choose to attack us. Or two, we can take off through the Mesozoic preserve and join up with everyone else in the ruins.”

There was a heavy silence for a time as everyone considered Kemp’s words. Finally Mishima spoke. “Perhaps there is a third option, Colonel.”

Kemp seemed surprised but not upset that Mishima would challenge him so diplomatically. “Really? And what might that be?”

“Well, isn’t it possible that we could send down some emissaries to the Saurians and get this thing resolved? I mean, maybe we don’t need to fight our way out
—
maybe they would just let us leave.”

This comment stirred up a bit of discussion among the assembled staffers and scientists who had been listening in on the dialogue. Mishima welcomed the additional input, but he was certain that Colonel Kemp loathed policymaking by committee. He couldn’t stifle a sly smile as he regarded the colonel, who remained passive as he scanned the reactions of the small assembly.

“That’s interesting,” Kemp said after the discussion had died down. “And you’re right
—
it is a distinct option. I guess I hadn’t thought of it. But I feel it’s also the most dangerous one. Wouldn’t you agree, Dr. Takamura?”

Mishima nodded. “Probably. There’s no doubt in my mind that the Saurians have been severely affected by the radiation levels we’ve been detecting
—
there’s no other explanation for what we’ve just been through. And although it appears to be affecting the warrior-class and agrarian-class individuals primarily, I wouldn’t bet on us being able to hash this thing out with the priests
—
they might be very pissed off at us.”

There was a murmur of laughter in the crowd as he continued. “But it is a possibility that we should at least consider. I was at one time quite friendly with Thesaurus, one of their philosopher-priests.”

Kemp nodded slowly. “Well, it’s certainly worth trying, especially if we can get some volunteers who wouldn’t mind walking into the arms of the Saurians.”

“Or maybe their jaws,” someone cracked.

There was a sharp round of laughter, followed by some anxious silence. Mishima knew they were waiting for some fool to volunteer.

“I guess I’m the one to do it,” he said with a touch of exhaustion.

Everyone looked at him with some surprise.

“I mean,” he continued, “it was my crazy idea, right? So why shouldn’t I be the guy to try it out, right?”

“I’m not sure that would be a good idea, Doctor,” Kemp said.

“And why not?” Mishima was feeling suddenly defensive. Did Kemp always feel so threatened by any outside authority or show of courage?

“It’s simple, really. With Dr. Jakes stranded in the ruins, that leaves you in charge of the research division. Correct me if I’m wrong on that.”

“No, that’s right. I am the chief project assistant.” Mishima could already see what the colonel was leading up to, and he was probably right.

“Well,” Kemp said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to risk the head of an operation to a mission that may be this risky, that’s all.”

“He’s right,” one of Mishima’s assistants said. “We wouldn’t want to lose you, Mishima.”

Mishima nodded appreciatively. It was gratifying to know that his people liked him and respected him enough to want him to stick around.

“All right,” he said. “I can see your point, Colonel, but I don’t see anybody else volunteering for the job. Does that mean that we just forget about it?”

Kemp grinned wryly and shrugged. “Good point, Doctor. I really don’t know what it means. I’m all for trying anything that might make our situation a little easier, but I think this one is strictly a volunteer proposition, don’t you?”

Mishima nodded and looked about at the faces of those who were standing close by. He could easily see the fear and apprehension in their expressions. It hadn’t been that long ago that they’d seen what an angry, hungry Saurian could do to a human being.

“I’d like to try it.” A small voice suddenly punctured the awkward silence.

Mishima stared down at diminutive Kate Ennis, the NBC journalist who had been standing by Kemp’s side, quietly recording the entire scene.

“Kate, you can’t be serious,” Kemp said.

“Are you sure you know what you’re taking on, Ms. Ennis?” Mishima asked.

Kate Ennis stepped forward, nervously straightening her soiled jumper. Her exquisitely sculpted face reflected her anxiety and the pressure she, and all of them, were under. But beneath that exterior Mishima could detect a fiercely burning spirit, a strength that was coming quickly to the surface.

“Of course I know,” she said. “And I think I’m qualified for the job.”

“Kate, I won’t hear of this,” Kemp said in a patronizing voice. “This is ridiculous.”

That seemed to anger her, but she kept her emotions in check as she turned to stare at the colonel. “Phineas, listen to me. I’ve been a journalist for thirteen years. I’ve interviewed every conceivable type of person in thousands of foreign locations. I’ve been confronted with foreign languages and customs from every part of the world, and I’ve done my job
—
which is to talk to them, damn it! It seems to me that this assignment is pretty much the same thing.”