Stepping Up (26 page)

“I will build a team and send you the roster,” Aria says. 
“Our scanners detect no evidence of any such activity. It is unlikely they are
space travel capable as BaineRa’ah IV showed no sign of past visitations.”

“True, but Viggo is a trained
starship
engineer.  And
he has knowledge of the surrounding cosmos, which in my uneducated opinion
should not have happened on a planet where stars are not visible.  So where did
he learn and who taught him? I’m not arguing. It’s just a puzzle to me.  I
think this time we’ll land in the town square and see what sort of reception we
get.  At least this crowd should know that there are other stars out there and
probably planets as well.”

“You are the mission commander. Those are your decisions.
What is your time line?”

“I’ll brief the mission in twenty-four hours. The patrol
departs twenty-four hours after that.  I figure no longer than ten days on the
planet.”

“Acceptable.”  There are a few more loose ends that get tied
up then we depart.  Aria sends me the mission roster:

Shawna
Landers, Pilot

Sherri
Watson, Trooper

Marlon
Jones, Trooper

Meeka
Gibbons, Medic and language specialist

Dan
Forrester, Security/ Mechanic

Jeena
Travis, Security/ Spacer

Sonia
MacTaggert, Mission commander

Gwendolyn
(NLN), Subject Matter Expert.

She copied all relevant parties.
Hmm. No Avi. Pout.

I seek out Viggo. “You’ve lived up to your end of the
bargain.  If you’d like to remain with the
Night Searcher
crew, I’m more
than happy to have you.  Of course, if you would like to stay on BaineRa’ah III
when we leave, I can probably make that happen, but I have to get it in the
works now.”

“I would like to remain aboard if I may. I enjoy it, I’m
learning a lot, and I really like Ginny.” He blushes slightly. “I mean
working
with
Ginny.”

“Excellent. I can certainly use your knowledge.”  Whether
that was a Freudian slip or not, I’m going to let it pass.

I have a lot of planning to do and not a lot of time to do
it in, so I grab a burger and Avi joins me.  I have something that’s been
bothering me, so I cowgirl up and say it: “I have another away mission coming
up.  You haven’t told me how you feel, but to me these one-nighters are getting
old.  Would you consider moving into my stateroom? It’s plenty big enough.”

“Maybe…” He pauses. “We’ll see. To be honest with you, I’m
reluctant to start a long-term relationship.  I have plans of returning to
Earth and resuming school someday.”

Now
I
pause. “Honestly, that’s not the answer I was
hoping for, or expecting.  I’m not offering to put a ring on your finger or
through any other part of your anatomy.” As I say it, I can’t help touching the
stone ring he gave me at Goliath. 
Does he still feel that way?
“But I’m
not going to fight about it, if it’s meant to be it will be. If it isn’t,
there’s nothing you or I can do to make it.”

“Let’s let it ride for a while. I have to work some issues
out with Mom. She puts a lot of pressure on me.” 

“I understand, and I don’t want to add to your load.  I’ll
see you when I get back.  If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of planning to do.”
I pick up my tray and trash half my cheeseburger.  I beg off any further
activity; after all I really do have a mission to plan. 
And a cold shoulder
to warm up.

I go to my stateroom and settle in for the evening.  First
order of business is to call Ginny.  She answers on the fourth ring.  “I’m on
another away mission.  I’m leaving you in charge of engineering.  There is, of
course, a temporary salary increase that will go along with that.  I plan to
make you the Assistant Lead Engineer, which will have a permanent salary
increase as well as a wider scope of responsibilities.  It won’t be as much as
the temp, but it will be more than what you get now. What do you say?”

“I say ‘Thanks!’  I got your back, Boss.  Don’t worry about
a thing. Viggo is a pretty quick student.”

“He speaks highly of you, too.  Listen, I’m in a
self-imposed lockdown.  If a propulsion catastrophe raises its head, call me. 
Otherwise, handle it.  I’m available if you need me, but I’d rather you not
need me.”

“Like I said before, Boss: I got this.”

I spend the rest of the evening poring over charts and
sketching out ideas.  My last mission was more making it up as I went along. 
This one will be a little more deliberate.  I have an appointment with Gwen at
0600, so I hit the sack about midnight.  Undressing for a shower is the first
opportunity I’ve had to really survey the damage the Captain did to my
underwear.
Is it possible I never needed a toilet today? Bizarre.
They
are irreparable.  I drop both items in the trash hopper.  It’s not my most
sleepless night aboard
Night Searcher
, but it’s pretty close.

Anya admits me without fanfare.  Gwen is happy to see me
and already knew that she would come with me to the planet. 
I will be
challenged to keep her birthday presents a surprise.
  We spend some time
talking about what she’s been doing, what I’ve been doing, and what will happen
on the away mission.  Before I leave, I tell her I’ll come get her when it’s
time for the briefing.  Anya volunteers to deliver her.  It helps with her
cabin fever.  After breakfast, I return to my stateroom to continue planning.

At the appointed time, I brief the away team. “We’re going
map hunting again, but we’re going to try a different approach.  I want to set
the boat down somewhere within the confines of the city—probably in an athletic
field or some other wide-open space.  We’ll make a normal approach and land at
high noon.  When we’re down and the crowds have started to mill around—and I’m
betting they will—Jonesy, Meeka and I, in our workday duds, will go introduce
ourselves.  Jonesy, because he’s a man and a Trooper; Meeka, because she’s a
woman and a language specialist; and me, because I’m not going to ask someone
to take a risk I’m not willing to take.  Meeka, spend some time with Viggo, and
find out what you can about the language we are most likely to encounter on
BaineRa’ah III.  I apologize for the short notice, but it couldn’t really be
helped.  For those who don’t know, Gwen here is a powerful but undisciplined
psionic.  So if she blurts out anything that sounds like prophecy, take it to
heart.  And if she says anything you don’t want known, it’s because discretion
is a habit she hasn’t mastered yet.  But do not call her a liar, because her
integrity is solid.  Are there any questions?”

Sherri makes an astute observation:  “I think we can
probably make a lot of friends if we play in the waves with the locals. So
should our first landing site be on the beach?”

Why didn’t I think of that? 
“That’s a very good
idea. Upon arrival, we will verify the water is comfortable by our standards.
Pack your marble sacks and bikinis, boys and girls.” I dismiss the band with
instruction to be on the small craft bay in 24 hours for pre-combat inspections
and launch.

I’ve had a little time to reflect on the crew assignments
for this mission.  I wonder if Aria had picked up on something I missed. 
Hmmm.

At the appointed hour, the boat is ready. It has one
10-ton module attached. There is a full exploration package of weapons, gear,
and supplies.  Gwen and I walk in to the small craft bay together.  Shawna has
finished her pre-flights and walks over to greet us.

“Hi, Shawna,” Gwen says to her and then looks up at me. “Why
has Shawna been dreaming of sex with you? Are girls supposed to do that?” 
Shawna turns the deepest red and hurries away muttering about a detail she conveniently
forgot to check.

I try—and fail horribly—not to laugh at Shawna’s discomfort.
“I see ‘discretion’ continues to elude you. Don’t worry, we’ll address it
later.”

“I asked you first!” she protests. “Did I do something wrong
again?” Her chin quivers, and her eyes well up.

I hug her and try to contain my laughter.  “Yes, you did ask
me first and no, you did nothing wrong; at least not on purpose.  Don’t worry
about it.  What else can you tell me about BaineRa’ah III?”

She’s still snuffling a bit. “People there call themselves
‘Uhreja.’ Their species stock is Homo sapiens.  Their technology level is about
what your civilization was like eight thousand years ago.  Some call themselves
‘Oorahbi,’ which I think means ‘Star Riders’ in their language. If they have an
observatory, this is where it is.” She points to an area on the map diagram. 

Sherri has joined us. “Topographic maps show that area to be
jungle right to the beach. We’re estimating about four hundred people currently
in that area. There is also a city with some higher technology, fifty miles
inland from there.  It’s somewhere about here.” Her finger points to the map.
Our target area is loaded into the cutter’s navigational system.  Sherri and I
complete our inspections, and we all load up on the cutter.

As they all strap themselves in, I stand in the entrance to
the cockpit to give my final briefing. “Okay, to the beach it is.  It clearly
wasn’t my first choice, but it is what it is.  I’m more interested in the
observatory than I am the city.  That’s where the star charts are most likely
to be.  Ideally, we’ll find the raw data for them as well.  We’ll want a copy
of those to compare what we see with what we expect.  And they can, more than
likely, guide us to someone who can fill in the rest of the blanks.  Anybody
have anything?” Nobody does.

Shawna breaks her silence as I sink into the seat beside
her. She switches the COM setting to
Command Crew Only
. “I’m sorry
Sonia. I can’t help being a slut. But I want you to know I really do respect
you.”

I busy myself with my own checks.  I’m not looking at her,
but it isn’t because I’m ignoring her.  “I know.  And I know you’re a great
pilot.  No harm, no foul.  If it matters, I don’t think she tried to embarrass
either of us.  She hasn’t quite figured out that she need not say everything
that comes into her head.  She really is a sweet kid, though.”

Shawna switches us back to the
All
setting, “Launch
in five…four…three…two… one…cutter is away.”

Gwen’s face is practically glued to the viewport for the uneventful
flight to the surface.  I know she is categorically blind, but she certainly
doesn’t act it. As Shawna sets the launch down on a section of the coast where
there are no people for about three hundred meters, the locals stop fishing and
playing to watch the cutter descend.

Sherri remarks, “So far, so good. No one went screaming into
the jungle.  Not what I expected.” Gwen explains why. “They are not afraid.
They are protected by Kretor.”

That’s ominous.
“Who’s Kretor?” I ask.

“A pagan god worshipped by many primitive peoples. He goes
by many names. I can feel his presence, but he is many miles away.” 

That sounds really ominous.

Once Jonesy and Meeka are in position, Shawna opens the
hatch, and the three of us step out onto the beach all smiles and waves.

Half of the locals go back to their regular activities.
Why?
Does this happen often?
The other half continues to stand and watch our
moves. Soon a young boy cautiously approaches with a wooden bucket full of pan
fish. Each is about the size of an adult’s hand.  As Meeka takes a knee to
begin conversation, I see in her hand a translator unit that is certain to have
been programmed from Viggo’s.

Over the Com I ask, “Gwen, are you sensing anything from the
locals?”

“They are happy fisher-people. They are wondering if we are
visiting gods.”

I practice my ventriloquism on Jonesy: I speak without
breaking my smile.  “Try not to be obvious about it, but keep an eye on the
locals and the boy talking to Meeka.” He nods almost imperceptibly.

Meeka stands after a few minutes. “Well, they’re clearly not
hostile. Simple fishermen, just like Gwen said. He says that anyone can go to
the ‘sky building’ anytime they want, but no one has been there in a long time.
I made sure he meant the observatory, and I have no idea how long ‘a long time’
is.”

I call the rest of the team out of the cutter.  “Break out
the Gemvee.  Gwen, Meeka, Jonesy, and I are going to the observatory.  Shawna,
stay with the cutter.  If you want to put on your bikini, wear both pieces
please—at the same time.  And try not to start too big a fertility religion. 
Thankyousomuch. Individual weapons and side arms only, leave any armor here for
now. The rest of you: hang out here, swim, fish, or whatever.  Just stay out of
trouble.  Any questions or comments?”

The Gravity Manipulation Vehicle (GMV or gemvee) is a pretty
handy vehicle.  It’s meant for transportation within an atmosphere.  With the
proper precautions, most models
can
achieve orbit, and they are capable
of limited space flight, although there really are better craft for doing so.

“Gotcha, Boss.” Shawna is digging in her travel bag. “You
know if you would just cross over once in a while, I wouldn’t be so bunched
up...”

“Who knows?” I reply. “My boyfriend is giving me that
pre-break up vibe.  We’ll see what the future holds. But for the mean time:
Shut it, Shawna.”

Someone—I think it was Dan—mutters, “Yeah,
that
might
happen.”  Everyone snickers.

We travel trillions of miles and never feel the first
hint of movement.  But who can resist a ride with the top down? The GMV has an
open cabin and no artificial gravity. Jones is driving, Gwen, Meeka and I are
all chuckling, playing with our hair in the flow field created by the vehicle’s
flight.  Jonesy tries to play it tough, but I can tell he wants to join in the
laughter. Even his closely cropped hair is waving slightly.  The observatory is
in dense jungle, so it takes some pretty good maneuvering to get close. The
building is made of fired bricks. We count fifteen levels. The tower is
cylindrical and it appears to have a diameter of twenty-five feet all the way
up for the first fourteen levels. The top floor is square and much larger,
maybe forty feet across.  We see a window at each level.  The jungle is trying
to reclaim the stones, as evidenced by vines snaking up the sides of the
building.