Gray Panthers: Dixie (3 page)

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Authors: David Guenther

BOOK: Gray Panthers: Dixie
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Unclaimed lands, planet Dixie

25 October 2128

Scotty stopped running as he came to a small river. Lungs bursting for air, he collapsed in the weeds along the water. Lying on his back, he tried to hear whatever he could, but mainly he heard his own heart thumping and his gasping for breath. A rustle in the weeds caught his attention, and a few minutes later Sam plopped down next to him.

“Damn, old man! I didn’t know you had that type of stamina,” she wheezed out as she tried to keep her voice low and soft.

“I think those monsters will be with us before you know it,” Scotty predicted. “I saw one sniffing the air before they started to chase us. I’m sure with us sweating like we are we’re only giving them a better scent to follow. We’ll take a minute to catch our breath, and then I think we need to hit the water and swim downstream. Hopefully, the cats following us are afraid of water. We should make some time on them that way, and then we can double back to the plantation.”

“We need to cross upstream from here. The wind is coming from downstream, and they’d catch our scent if we went in that direction. We need to leave tracks that show we’re heading into the water following the stream, but then change direction after we get into the water and head upstream so they can’t smell us,” Sam said forcefully as she reached into her pack and grabbed a dirty sock. She used it to rub the sweat from her body and then hooked it onto a broken branch and let it float downstream.

“They should be able to follow that with no trouble,” she said. “Now, move!” She slipped into the fast running water, which came up to her shoulders, and fought against the current.

Scotty watched for a few seconds before sliding into the water himself. The icy coldness caught his breath. Sam turned to look back at him and rewarded him with a big smile. He could see her teeth chattering like his. He followed her for a hundred feet or so and then crawled out of the water behind her in a marshy area full of reeds and waist-high grass.

The soupy ground pulled at them as they crawled away from the river, sinking easily two feet into the muck until they finally found higher ground that was dry, about three hundred feet from the river. The wind was picking up and clouds were starting to block out the sun.

“Looks like we better find someplace to hold up. Good thing we put a little distance from the river. It doesn’t take much to flood the banks,” Sam said tiredly as she pushed herself erect and reached over to help Scotty to his feet.

“I’m not sure, but I think we’re about twenty miles from the plantation. The river is one of the boundaries to our property. The other side is unclaimed lands. There’s no value in cultivating it, since we barely manage to sell all our produce as it is. Start looking for a pointed area along the bluffs. When you see it, we’ll start heading that way.”

Lieutenant Knife was getting disgusted with the chase. The two humans they had flushed from the old building, small and puny as they were, had fought as well as Jacka, though dishonorably. His patrol had begun with fifteen warriors. Three had been wounded almost immediately when they took cover as they were being fired on. His warriors had been impaled on stakes. He led his remaining warriors toward the enemy after they had stopped firing. The enemy then opened up again, killing four warriors in the tall bushes as they advanced. His senior warrior had managed to get close enough to charge the enemy gunman and had been cut down at the last second. The old one had been there for Knife and had taught him how to lead while ensuring that the others showed proper respect for Knife.

Standing at the edge of the river with the last of his warriors, Knife knew he was beaten. He had only six left, and he would not split them up to search the river, especially since he could smell rain in the air and doubted that any of his warriors could swim. The brief hope that he could call in a recon unit was dashed when he remembered that all he had been allotted for his part in the planet’s invasion were the two hover trucks, and they wouldn’t be able to navigate the forest to where he was.

Knife felt his entire body begin to convulse as he let out a huge roar that echoed from both sides of the bluffs. His patrol looked at him in fear when he finished. He said nothing as he pointed to his remaining scout to lead the way back.

“Damn! That sounded close!” Scotty said as he listened to the roar reverberate through the valley, goose bumps forming on his arms. “I don’t think they’re happy with us. What do you say we move a little faster?”

“That’s not a bad idea, except I’m on borrowed energy as it is. I don’t know how I’m moving even now,” Sam replied, trying to avoid a tree branch that Scotty had pushed out of his way as he broke trail for the two of them.

Scotty took a moment to let her catch her breath and noticed that she looked like a drowned rat. Her clothing was plastered against her skin, and her hair, which she normally took such pride in, was flat against her head, looking stringy and knotted. Her face was sweaty and smeared with dirt from where she had wiped her hand across it or rubbed at the scratches she’d gotten from breaking brush.

“Screw it! We have a good area here. Drop your pack, and we’ll take ten before we move on,” Scotty said as he dropped his own pack, amazed at how good it felt to be free of the weight. Blood started to flow back into the areas the pack had constricted, and he began to feel pain in his arms and shoulders as he dropped to the ground and took a long swig of water from his vest.

“This has been a long day, hasn’t it?” Sam asked as she rested her head on Scotty’s belly while stretching out. Before Scotty could reply, he heard her breath deepen and realized she was asleep.

Arizona Space Ship Beater, in the orbit of the Flem home world

26 October 2128

Lieutenant Horton scanned the surface of the Flem home world. The readings from the probes that had been launched indicated slightly elevated background radiation, but no major hazards. The anticipated wreckage from a bombed-out planet didn’t materialize. There simply was no sign of civilization. There weren’t even any satellites in orbit.

Finally, in frustration, the young officer asked Beater for help. “Beater, can you check your records for areas where I might find entrances to the Flem subterranean cities?”

“Lieutenant Horton, I would recommend centering your search near the southern sixty latitude. It is a safe assumption that those that have come to pick over the carcass of the planet would not wish to bother with the extreme weather there. The majority of all interactions of the Flem were from the northern hemisphere, around latitude thirty. This was always intended so that visitors would never realize the true population centers were in the southern hemisphere,” Beater answered.

Immediately, a target materialized. What appeared to be a perfect square, roughly a half-mile by half-mile, was visible on the side of a gently sloping hill. No power sources or wreckage was anywhere near the square. The distinctive shape was the only reason it had been an obvious target to Horton. It was apparent that the snow had recently blown off the structure, as snow was receding in the area.

“Beater, is this a portal to one of the Flem cities?” Horton asked excitedly.

“My information is limited, but it would appear to be,” Beater replied.

Captain Johnson listened to the interaction, then made his decision. Using the ship’s communication system, he contacted Young. “Captain Young, we have a potential entrance on the surface for you to check out. No hazards have been detected. You are cleared to check it out with a survey team.”

“Understood, Captain Johnson. We’ve just been waiting for a site. We’ll launch our shuttle with a full team of ten men,” Young answered, assessing the shuttle’s supplies. His men were performing a pre-mission check of each other and the equipment they would use on the planet’s surface.

“On me!” Young ordered as he stepped to the entrance of the shuttle. “We leave in thirty minutes. We’ll drop down to the target and perform a three hundred and sixty degree sweep of it up to a half-mile from a height of one hundred feet. If nothing is found, we’ll land half a mile south of the target and team A will reconnoiter to the target while team B with me will perform overhead cover in the shuttle. Once the target is secured, team B will join with team A and begin in-depth examination of the surface to see if the target is in fact a door to one of the underground cities. If the target is a door, we will attempt to find a way in.

“The planet has minor background radiation but is not considered a threat. There should be no large animals or friendly natives on the surface. To our knowledge, the plant life can be dangerous, so don’t stick anything in your mouth. Duress word is ‘candy.’ Emergency recall is ‘mustang.’ Any questions?”

“Cap’n, what can we expect on the ground?” Staff Sergeant Pieter Polanski asked.

“The area we’ll be checking out will be on the side of a valley. The only flat ground is west of the target on the valley floor. The area is at a 30-degree incline. It appears to be low grass mixed with rocks, lightly covered in snow. The temperature is about forty degrees Fahrenheit. The gravity on the planet is slightly lower than Earth’s, and the atmosphere is slightly higher in oxygen. Any other questions about the mission?” Young paused for a moment, and then said, “Okay, we leave in twenty-five mikes.”

Young sat in the pilot’s seat viewing the sensor data as it came in while the AI, Rogers, piloted the shuttle toward the target. The treeless slope didn’t seem like it could hide anything as the shuttle performed one last pass over the target area.

Staff Sergeant Polanski did a quick last check of his team while waiting for the word to disembark. The shuttle hovered over the slope as the main hatch opened, blowing snow into the warm shuttle and replacing the smell of oils and metal with a crisp cleanness. The team jumped the three feet to the ground and took their positions as the shuttle departed to take up station above them.

Watching the safety and security of the shuttle depart, Polanski checked his position and that of his men lying in the snow, facing all directions. Feeling the wind blow across his face and not sensing any danger, he decided it was time to act.

“Washington, take point. Everyone else, like we planned it. Move out,” Polanski said softly. The wind felt good, though colder than anticipated. The view was good in all directions as the men made their way to the target slowly. Washington made a slight motion toward a small bush less than a foot high as he passed it. When Polanski got there he saw a part of the bush was leaking sap from where branches had been torn off. Numerous tiny footprints could be seen heading in a dozen different directions. Their size and shape indicated that they had been made by an animal approximately the size of an Earth field mouse.

There were no further signs of life as the men reached the hatch on the side of the valley. The door had no console or handle. The exterior was smooth, though pitted from exposure to the weather. It was devoid of any type of seam or hinge, and part of the large metal square was imbedded into the hillside.

“Target secured. No signs of hostiles,” Polanski commed to the shuttle.

Captain Young acknowledged the transmission and directed the shuttle to land next to the team. As he exited the shuttle, his breath was initially taken away by the cold breeze, which seemed to go right through him. “What do we have here, Polanski?”

“Damned if I know, sir. I’d like to drill a hole through it to know for sure. We sure don’t have any doorknob out here to get in with.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Have Sergeant Hayashi use his beamer to drill a hole through the metal, but have him angle it downward in case there’s anything behind there we might want.”

“Joe, I want a hole in that door. Be sure you angle your penetration so the beam goes down to the deck on the other side to avoid damaging anything on the other side,” Polanski ordered as Sergeant Hayashi took up a position to fire.

“Fire in the hole!” echoed through the windswept hillside as Hayashi pulled the trigger on his beamer. A bright beam made contact with the door and the door began to glow red at the point of contact. Young watched the sergeant fire the beamer nonstop for five minutes without any apparent results.

“Cease fire, Joe,” Young ordered as he approached the door to see for himself if there was any damage. The door quickly cooled and didn’t even show a scorch mark from the failed attempt to fire through it.

“Joe, did you have the power setting on max?” Young asked as he continued to inspect the door.

“Yes, sir!” Hayashi replied.

“Okay, everybody get back a hundred feet and take cover. Rogers, I want you to position the shuttle so you can use the shuttle’s beamer to make a hole in the door. Same restrictions we used earlier. I don’t want to damage anything behind door number one. Let me know when you are ready to fire,” Young ordered as he joined his men in taking cover.

“Ready to fire, Captain Young,” the shuttle’s avatar, Major Rogers, replied.

“I want the hole as narrow as possible. I just want to be able to see in for now. You’re cleared to fire in ten seconds.” Young then shouted to his men, “Ten seconds. Heads down, and don’t look at the beam!” Everyone braced themselves for the noise and a potential explosion.

“Firing is complete,” Major Rogers announced. “Hole diameter is one inch. Uncertain about the depth of the hole. Would you like me to send in the faeries to recon what is behind the door, Captain?”

“Go ahead. Have their scans go to my tablet,” Young ordered, reaching for his tablet. As he turned it on, he saw the faeries were already behind the door. He watched as they illuminated the cavernous room. It appeared to be devoid of anything. The walls were smooth, as were the floor and ceiling.

The faeries continued down the corridor away from the door. After a quarter-mile, the corridor opened up into a large room that seemed to go on in all directions, with no walls. The area was covered with machinery and materials that could not be identified.

“Major Rogers, any suggestions on how we can get the door open without destroying it?” Young asked.

“Sir, the best way would be to cut the door out and replace it with a new door fabricated by the Beater. It will not take long to cut out the door now that we know where we can cut,” Rogers suggested.

“Beater, this is Young.”

“We have been monitoring. You are the man on the ground. We support any decision you make,” Captain Johnson advised.

“Thank you, Captain Johnson. We will cut out the door. We’ll need a door and frame designed to replace the old one.”

“I will have the crew use the fabricator to build it after we have the sizes and specs. Beater out.”

“Everyone, back away from the door. Rogers, when we are clear, go ahead and cut it out for us.” Young sat and scanned the valley as the shuttle’s Major Rogers cut out the door while hovering thirty feet above and behind him. The unexpected soft “plop” of the door falling over startled the entire team, and then the door began to slide down the hillside.

“Time to earn our paychecks, men. The faeries show that no one’s home. Let’s play it safe and be sure nothing was left behind for uninvited guests. Sergeant Polanski, your team can take point. We will follow after fifty feet.”

Polanski nodded in acknowledgment as his team began to form on him. Before entering the hole he made an exaggerated motion of putting on his visor, immediately making the dark hole look like it was high noon to him.

The men spread out across the entire width of the half-mile-wide passage. Nothing marred the smooth surfaces. The ground was clear of any trash or other materials. Polanski was surprised at the lack of any writing on the walls. The patrol continued until they made it to the cavern. Bright lights blinded the men as they quickly raised their visors. The cavern appeared to extend a couple miles in all directions and the ceiling was half a mile high. A huge, glowing cube suspended from the ceiling projected an avatar in front of the patrol.

“Welcome to Flem. I am Roots, the AI responsible for Repair Facility Three. How may I assist you today?” the apparition asked as the team stared at the seven-foot-tall alien that looked like a gopher.

“Roots, I am Captain Young from the planet Earth. Are there any Flem left on the planet?”

“I cannot answer that question, as my last orders were to close the door to the facility until further notice. We have not been in communication with anyone since that time.”

“Okay. We’ll come back to that question later. What is the main purpose of this repair facility?”

“Repair Facility Three is a commercial industrial facility. Our main purpose is the repair, upgrade, and maintenance of all types of vehicles.”

“Does the facility connect to any of the Flem cities, Roots?“ Young asked.

“This facility is intended to be totally automated, so usually we do not have organic visitors. Our primary responsibility is to alien races that require our services. The only entrance and exit is the one you entered through.”

“If I told you the Flem have left the planet and we now claim it and everything on it for the planet Earth, would you accept orders from me?” Young inquired.

“Excuse my interruption, Captain Young. May I communicate with Roots to further explain what is going on?” Major Rogers asked.

Ten minutes later, Roots addressed the captain. “We will make our facility available to the humans of Earth, while continuing with our original directives. We will maintain a ledger of all services provided so that the Flem can receive payment for the services we provide. In accordance with our original directives, we will not perform any maintenance on any weapons. All other services will not be a problem.”

“That works for me, Roots. The first task will be to repair the main door and let me know how we can open it after it’s repaired.”

Before Roots could answer, a loud humming came from the back of the facility and an enormous machine began to hover and advance toward the team. “Captain Young, I have already begun the process to repair the door. The tow unit you see will bring the door back to the entrance and reconnect it. I have already given the security access code to your shuttle. Do you have any other requests of me?”

“Not at this time. We will be bringing a variety of ships here for storage in the near future. How many ships can be stored here at any one time?”

“Because of the variables of ship sizes, I can’t answer that question. If you bring more ships than we have space for, we can expand the size of our facility to handle the ships. We would be required to add that work to the ledger for services provided, for when the Flem request payment for services rendered,” Roots replied.

“That works for me.” A loud clang startled Young and the cavern momentarily darkened. He turned to see that the door had already been put in place and was being rejoined by a small army of droids wielding laser welders. “You don’t waste time, do you?” Young said, awed by how quickly the repairs to the door were being completed—especially considering the size of the door and how far it had slidden down the hillside.

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