Trapped On Talonque: (A Sectors SF romance) (44 page)

Nate studied the flyer for a few moments, walking around it. It had been parked haphazardly, one winglike projection nearly touching the wall.

“As if it was shoved out of the way of something bigger,” Nate said. “How do we get inside? I don’t think my Special Forces override code is going to be much help here.”

Bithia smiled absently. “No, this is my job. This craft is similar to the ones we had on the expedition, but larger.” She tried one combination of symbols on the single small, jeweled panel she located on the flyer’s smooth exterior. Nothing happened.

Bithia frowned. “He didn’t say anything about it being locked, or ID sealed—” She broke off, her eyes growing wide. “That’s it—the ID bracelet! Thank goodness you brought it with you from the warehouse, because it has to be the key.”

“How’d he expect you to get in without it?” Nate said. “He obviously didn’t think things through too well.”

“Or he truly didn’t believe he’d fail,” Thom added.

She tried the control panel again, this time holding her arm to the symbols, laying the red and purple gemstones across them as tightly as she could make it fit. There was a chiming noise from inside the flyer. Nate drew her out of the way as a portion of the hull unfolded into a ramp. Bright light shone from inside, inviting them to proceed.

Bithia exchanged looks with her companions. “A good sign certainly. Almost as if this flyer has a pleikn.”

“I remember you telling me pleikn don’t come this small?” Nate said.

“Scientists were working on a smaller version in my day. M’negel apparently came from somewhere in the future as it relates to my personal life, but in the long-ago past now.” She smiled, shaking her head. “These concepts of time! I think I’ll just be one of you, speaking in your present tense and refer to my people as the Ancient Observers from now on—it’s easier for me to adopt your frame of reference for galactic history. Anyway, let’s go find out if the AO of M’negel’s day had miniaturized pleikn, shall we?”

Nate stopped her gently. “I’ll go first.” He drew his Mark 27. “Any likelihood of booby traps? Self-defense weapons?”

“I hope not. But after all his talk about the enemy and the mysterious ‘they’ who wouldn’t like him being here on Talonque, I can’t promise.”

“Not to mention the fact he was murdered,” Thom said. “A little caution is a good thing.”

Despite their concerns, the flyer was perfectly harmless, even welcoming. Nate stepped into a uniformly open space. Four seats were located around the rim of the flyer’s oval interior, a fifth in the center. A control console bearing the ubiquitous symbols was set into the arm of the central chair. A closed hatch with one large symbol surrounded by a ring of smaller ones was located at the flyer’s “tail” end.

Bithia was tremendously excited. “See?” she said, pointing at the hatch door. Walking over to touch the symbols, she told them, “It’s a warning, a do-not-open instruction. This ship is pleikn-powered, which means I can recharge my gilintrae, we can get the coordinates of your Sectors from its memory—”

“One step at a time, lady,” Nate reminded her. “I know I sound like a broken message, but we can’t get our hopes too high yet. M’negel’s spaceship may not be where he said he left it, you know.”

“Let’s find out.” She sat in the control chair, beginning to flip gemmed switches even before she’d fully settled into the seat. The flyer hummed, and a display holo appeared in midair in front of each chair. The view was curiously obscured, as if by blowing snow.

Nate realized it truly was snow, not interference nor a malfunction. The flyer’s screens were showing the blizzard currently raging outside the shelter of the mountain base.
Weather patterns must have changed somewhat in the thousands of years since she was here, since she wasn’t expecting storm season so early.

Bithia hummed, in tune with the ship, working the console. On the viewscreens, the snowstorm cleared away, changing to a dizzying series of images taking them off the planet and out into space. Nate saw the three moons, orbiting in their tight formation. Even before he could fully register the moons’ presence on the screens, the device homed in on the second of the celestial satellites. Suddenly, the view converted from reality to a contoured grid map outlining the moon’s terrain in blazing purple and red. A green dot winked insistently in the center.

“It’s there, and it’s talking to the flyer.” Bithia pointed at a small stream of symbols scrolling rapid-fire across the bottom of the contour map. “See? This is the data feed from the spaceship and our responses, our commands. It’s powering up now. By the time we get there, atmosphere and life-support functions will be fully engaged.”

“Power?” Nate liked the sound of that. “Will it have the power to go into hyperspace?” Now he too began to have trouble reining in his excitement. He wanted to get off Talonque and go home to his own civilization. The desire to be free and clear, and done with this mission, was too strong to hold back now that it finally appeared there might actually be a way to accomplish the journey.

Bithia watched the symbol stream for a long moment, the two men watching her with bated breath. She finally nodded. “According to this, the power plant is intact and balanced. We won’t be exploring your Sectors with an unbalanced pleikn under our feet.”

She poised her hand above the controls. “Shall we go? Are you as ready to be done with Talonque as I am?”

Nate didn’t answer immediately. “I think we need to make some preparations first.”

“Like?” Bithia’s tone was challenging.
 

“Recharge your gilintrae, for one thing. Test the hangar doors. They may not open under just the auxiliary power available. We may have to blast them open.”

“Good point.” Thom nodded. “I’m not real excited about spending any more time here in the facility than necessary, since there’s a chance we can make a good attempt at going home, courtesy of M’negel.”

“Let me recharge the gilintrae,” she said. “What you said about the hangar doors makes sense.”

“You know what? Let’s eat,” Thom proposed. “You recharge the fancy bracelet, and we’ll have some of these sandwich things Hatur’s youngest daughter fixed for us while I was in the village getting our gear. A little wine maybe, to celebrate finding this flyer?”

“Excellent idea,” Nate said. “Break out the provisions.”

Bithia unclasped her device and set it straight up in a receptacle on the side of the control console she had been operating. Immediately, the entire length of the heavy bracelet glowed, sparks of light sizzling from the round bezel.

The three of them enjoyed a quiet picnic, sitting in the flyer, not talking much, certainly not lingering over the food, good though it was. After savoring a last swallow of wine, Nate asked Thom, “You ready to check out the tunnel doors?” He turned to Bithia. “Flying through a blizzard won’t bother this ship, I’m assuming?”
 

“It should be fine. I used to fly ours through the worst storms with no problem, and we were running on charges, not the direct pleikn. Let me fasten the gilintrae on my wrist where it belongs, so I can activate the tunnel doors. I hope the facility’s auxiliary power will be enough to work the mechanism.”

“We can blow them out if we have to,” Nate said as he walked out of the flyer and started across the hangar. “We brought along a few other nasty surprises from the
Murphy
besides the blasters.”

“If we wanted to spend the time, we might be able to reroute all the auxiliary power to the doors,” Thom commented. “Less drastic than blowing them. Don’t want to leave this place open to the elements, do we? Might want to come back someday.”

“Not in my worst nightmares,” Bithia vowed. “I never want to visit Talonque under any circumstances.”

“We haven’t left yet, so let’s don’t get ahead of ourselves.” Nate studied the huge, heavy round door before narrowing his eyes and staring across the hangar at the flyer. He whistled. “M’negel must have been some pilot. There’s barely room for his big flyer to get through this hatch. Probably only a few feet of clearance altogether.”

“If he could do it, I can do it,” Bithia said. “You’re blessed to have the number one pilot in her class at your disposal. Everyone on the expedition, even my father, wanted me to be their pilot when they needed to get someplace. I have hundreds of hours of flight time on Talonque, at home—”

“I believe you.” Nate held up his hand to forestall her semi-indignant recitation of her flying credentials. “I’m glad to hear it, since neither Thom nor I have any flight time on this type of ship. You’ll teach us, won’t you?”

“Of course.” She nodded. “But I have to warn you, I’m not a patient instructor. I like to get in and fly.”

“Duly noted. Let’s do the doors and go, then.”

She raised her gilintrae and flicked the proper gems and disks into action with tiny taps from her nails. Obligingly, if slowly, the massive portal in front of them began ratcheting into the open position. Nate held his breath, remembering how stubborn the one at the Nochen tunnel had been, as it ground its way from fully closed to fully open. But this door was fully functional, and the locking mechanism thudded into place with a loud, satisfying click.

“I guess I’m not going to worry about this baby falling on us in midflight.” Nate sighed with relief after watching the now motionless door stay securely in the open position for another moment. “Shall we?”

A few moments later, they were back inside the now sealed flyer. Bithia sat confidently at the controls, vehicle hovering at her command a yard off the talmere floor of the hangar and slowly edging toward the tunnel entrance.
 

“What about the door at the other end?” Thom asked.

“Triggered automatically by the approaching flyer,” Bithia said. “I’ll take it slow so if the expected doesn’t occur, we won’t crash. I can set down in the tunnel if need be, and we can get out and assess the best way to open the outer door should it not open on its own.”

“Let the lady concentrate,” Nate said. “She hasn’t done this in a while.”

“My reflexes are good. The healing device had protocols to maintain flexibility and viability of muscle and tendon tissues.” Bithia flew the flyer into the tunnel as neatly as she’d boasted she could, not even brushing the sides. In one viewer Nate watched the tunnel door closing behind them, while ahead the other opened with pleasing synchronicity. Bithia increased their speed and fairly burst out of the tunnel into the blizzard, going vertical the instant she cleared the mountain overhang. Rejoicing in the freedom of the skies, and the responsive power of the flyer, Bithia flew them free of Talonque’s atmosphere at the best speed the flyer could attain.

Shortly thereafter, they arrived in orbit around the second red moon. Bithia set the flyer for cruising speed and slowly skimmed the pockmarked terrain, following the beacon on the contour map.

“There it is,” she cried, pointing at the viewscreen on the left side of the cabin. Nate and Thom rose from their chairs to watch intently as she flew a course to dock with M’negel’s spacer. As the flyer homed in, a circular hatch opened in the side of the ship. In the next breath, Bithia brought their craft to a smooth landing inside the tight confines of a hangar deck.

“Well?” Eyebrows raised, one arm looped over the back of the pilot’s chair, she was brash and challenging.

“You’re one hell of a flyer pilot,” Nate said. “Can you fly a spaceship?”

“Never satisfied, are you?” she teased. “With the help of the ship itself. We have something similar to your AI.”

“We really are going home,” Thom said as if this was the first time he had actually permitted himself to believe it.

Leaving the flyer in its bay, Nate and the others ascended one short flight of lightweight steps to the combination passenger area and flight deck. This ship had room for six people, judging by the number of seats. Bithia ran a quick check of the systems, informing Nate and Thom the ship had plenty of air, facilities for water and food stocks. “Although you may not like our space rations, the nutrients will keep you alive.”

“No problem, believe me. If I could eat red mush in the Nochen prison day in and day out for breakfast, I can stomach your space rations,” Nate said.

“I’ll feed in the coordinates and information I got from your AI now.” She turned a suddenly serious face to her companions. “This is the make-or-break moment, I must tell you. My gilintrae could take in the data from your AI, but I’m not sure it can do the translation to a format this ship requires.”

“Well, let’s try it,” Nate said. “Nothing to lose now.”
 

“Ma’am, does this ship carry weapons?” Thom asked. “Can you tell?”

Bithia frowned and ran a diagnostic inquiry separate from the operation ongoing between the ship and her gilintrae’s memory. “It possesses a weapon system. I don’t know about such things. But yes, there is definitely an offensive capability.”

“We can figure weaponry out later,” Nate told the sergeant. “It’s good to know, though. When we left the vicinity of the blue giant star, there was a whole armada of Mawreg client warships passing through. I’m hoping the enemy ships will be long gone by now, but reassuring to know we could shoot back with something.”

“Yeah,” Thom said. “But if the ship’s weapons are like the Mark Ones we acquired in the warehouse, I’m not sure how much good the ordnance’ll do against Mawreg artillery.”