The Knights of the Black Earth (23 page)

The lieutenant
shook hands cordially, glanced at Xris with only minimal curiosity. The Marine
had obviously seen his share of cyborgs.

The yellow
coveralls effectively hid Xris’s metal leg. He had attached his tool hand,
however, equipped with drill and screwdriver and other instruments—routine,
with one small exception. The thumb was a special design, housed a tiny needle.
When activated by contact, the needle popped out, injected a delayed-action
lethal drug.

“I see you’ve got
a new team this time, Schwartz.” The lieutenant was relaxed, jovial, obviously
thankful for any excuse to break the monotonous duty on this isolated space
station. “So Kloosterman and Lypps got stranded on Clinius, did they? Poor
bastards. Dullest planet in the galaxy. And you got tagged for this detail.”

“Yes, sir. We were
the only ones available who were cleared for the job.” Xris gestured behind
him. “You want to look over our equipment?”

The lieutenant
gave it a bored glance. “Maybe a quick look. Just to make sure you guys aren’t
trying to smuggle jump-juice in here.” He laughed.

Xris gave a polite
chuckle.

The lieutenant did
a head count. “Our scans indicated six life-forms. Who’s still on board?”

“My pilot is
waiting to move the plane over to the docks, and I’ve got an injured crew
member. The load shifted when we made the jump. He got clonked a good one.”

The lieutenant was
concerned. “I’ll summon a medic.”

“Won’t be
necessary, sir, thanks. He’s out cold.”

“But it won’t be
any trouble,” the lieutenant persisted. “Our doctor could check him over while
you work.”

“One of our guys
is an EMT. He bandaged him up. It’s not really necessary to bother your medical
staff. Besides, technically he was injured on Olicien property. The company’s
responsible. Your people would have to fill out a disk-load of forms, what with
worker’s comp, insurance, medical release waivers. It wouldn’t be worth the
hassle just for a bump on the head.”

“You’ve got a
point.” The lieutenant considered the situation a moment, wrote down something
on his electronic notepad. He showed it to Xris, offered an electronic pen. “I’ve
made a notation that I offered medical treatment and that you refused. If you’d
sign here ...”

Xris did so,
solemnly scrawling the name “Aaron Schwartz” on the line indicated.

“There. That
should satisfy the authorities.” The lieutenant smiled, relieved. “Sergeant,
take your detail on board.”

The soldiers
trooped up the ramp. Jamil and the others moved to one side to let them past. A
few of the Marines gave Tycho an odd look. The chameleon’s skin had,
unfortunately, changed to the same obnoxious yellow color as his coveralls.

Five minutes
later, the Marines exited the plane. The sergeant made his report.

“Nothing out of
the ordinary, Lieutenant. All the equipment checks out. The injured man seems
okay. He’s asleep. I didn’t want to disturb him.”

The lieutenant
turned back to Xris. “Very well, Schwartz. Move your plane over to loading dock
28L. The sergeant here will escort you gentlemen to that location to unload
your gear, then on to Engineering. Clear?”

“Yes, sir. Thanks.”
Xris yelled up to Tycho, who had keyed the intercom button on the door control.
“Tell Harry he has clearance to move into loading dock 28L. We’ll meet him
there.”

Tycho solemnly
repeated the message via the spaceplane’s comm, although Harry had already
heard everything over his own internal commlink.

The spaceplane
lifted from the deck and glided smoothly forward.

The lieutenant
spoke a few words to the sergeant, then headed for the exit. The sergeant
ordered one of his men to stay with the team, and dismissed the rest.

“Good hunting,
Schwartz,” the sergeant said, smiling.

“Thanks for the
help, Sergeant.”

The sergeant left.
Xris and his team, accompanied by a young Marine, were marched over to loading
dock 28L. They found the plane there ahead of them, settled on the deck in the
designated area. Harry lowered the cargo ramp.

Jamil, Tycho, and
Quong located several floating air-carts, activated them, and took them up the
ramp into the spaceplane. Harry joined Xris on the deck. The escort Marine
stood several meters away, his beam rifle carelessly slung over his shoulder.
He was relaxed, interested in the proceedings, which were a change from boring
routine. He certainly wasn’t expecting trouble.

In low tones,
Harry asked, “Everything go okay?”

“So far.”

Tycho and Jamil
appeared, pushing air-carts loaded with equipment down the ramp.

Quong shoved the
last cart out of the plane. He reached over to the control panel to close the
hatch.

Xris waved, caught
the Doc’s attention. The hatch took twenty seconds to cycle through before it
opened. Those twenty seconds might mean the difference between life and death
if they had to make a fast exit.

Quong left the
hatch open, the ramp in place, and joined the others on the loading dock.

“We’re all set to
go, boss,” Jamil said loudly.

The Marine glanced
back at the spaceplane. “You’re not going to shut the hatch, sir?”

Xris grinned. “Why,
kid? You afraid someone’s gonna steal my plane?”

The Marine stared,
momentarily taken aback. Then he laughed, somewhat shamefacedly. “No, sir. I
guess not. If you’ll follow me. Oh, and, uh, sir. I’m sorry, but smoking’s not
permitted anywhere in the space station.”

Xris had the twist
in his mouth. He started to offer his customary explanation that he wasn’t
going to smoke the damn thing, then decided it would be easier to put the twist
away. He didn’t want trouble of any sort.

He and Harry
helped push the heavily loaded carts. Xris paired himself up with Jamil, the
only ex-military man among them. They exited the loading dock, entered the
space station interior.

Wide double doors
led into a faintly lit access corridor. Pipes and cables were visible overhead,
providing heat, power, oxygen, and other services. The walls were painted
white. Emergency oxygen stations and fire-fighting equipment were mounted in
compartments in the wall every twenty meters. The team moved along in single
file behind the Marine.

They passed two
more sets of double doors, marked by signs in Standard Military. The first read
ss-sigint
2-2 and the other
hs-sigint.

Xris, mentally
going over the layout of the space station, tried to get a fix on their
location. “What does that mean?” he asked Jamil, not bothering to lower his
voice. With the rattle of the equipment and the whoosh of air from the cart,
the cyborg wasn’t worried about being overheard.

“SigInt
stands for ‘Signal Intelligence,’ “ Jamil returned. “I don’t know what the
other letters mean.”

“Let’s hope it isn’t
important.”

The access
corridor opened into a large, brightly lit work area. Overhead cranes were built
into tracks in the ceiling. Huge metal-paneled doors lined the walls. Yellow
and black floor markings were covered by puddles of greenish motor oil.

“Please wait here,
sir,” the Marine instructed. “I’ll inform Commander Drake that you’ve arrived.”

The Marine left.

“This is
Engineering,” said Jamil.

Xris marked it on
his mental map.

Moments later,
pistons hissing, the metal doors along the right side began to open. Looking
through them, Xris spotted some of the most important units in the space
station—water pumps. Water was a highly valuable resource in space, second only
to air. The air exchangers were located here, too, along with the myriad other
machines all designed to keep the living inside the space station alive.

The Marine
returned, accompanied by a short, stocky, muscular man wearing regulation
coveralls with commander’s tabs on the collar. He smiled broadly, shook hands
all around.

“Greetings,
gentlemen. I’m Bradley Drake, chief plant engineer.”

“Aaron Schwartz.
We’re here to perform the routine maintenance on the exterminator drones and to
restock their chemical supply.”

“Sure, same as
usual,” said the commander. “You guys are new here. Do you know where to find
everything?”

“Actually, no. The
regular team was stranded on Clinius, no way to brief us. If you could show us
where the ‘bot control station is located and, uh, this man here”—he indicated
Harry—”needs to be escorted to the central security station.”

Xris could almost see
everyone in the team tense up. This was the crucial part of the entire
operation. If the commander balked, they were in trouble.

As it was, Drake
did appear startled by the request. “Why do you need a man at security? That’s
not normally part of your routine.”

Xris nodded. “We’re
installing a new software maintenance release in the exterminator ‘bots. If
they stray during testing, they’re liable to set off your alarms, and we don’t
want some trigger-happy Marine to vaporize them. I don’t suppose the Navy’d be
thrilled about having to pay for replacements.”

“Right, right. I
see your point. The private”—Drake indicated the young Marine—”will take your
man to security. I’ll let them know he’s coming. You’ll find the bug-’bot
station over there, by Air Exchanger Three next to the bulkhead. Let me know if
you have any problems.”

The commander
returned to his office. Harry, looking nervous, grabbed a tool box and left
with the Marine.

Xris motioned for
the rest of the team to follow him, headed for the service area—a computer
station located near a major air exchange unit. Three large air conduits, over
a meter in diameter, entered the exchanger. From there, the conduits branched
out, stopped at various access ports throughout the station.

“You’re in charge,
Quong,” Xris told him.

The Doc moved over
to the computer, began tapping on the keyboard. After studying it a moment, he
turned to the others.

“According to Xris’s
information, there are twenty-eight exterminator robots roaming around the
facility, inside the air ducts. We bring them down through that conduit there
to check their programming, update it if necessary, and replenish their
chemical supply. Jamil, you and Tycho remove the air duct access ports. I’ve
called ‘bots one, two, and three down for servicing.”

A large metal
conduit, attached to the air ducts, canted downward at a gentle slope, ending
at deck level. A large metal plug sealed it shut. Tycho and Jamil removed the
plug just as the first ‘bot rumbled down the conduit and exited onto the floor.
The ‘bot was cylindrical in shape, moved on crawler tracks, and didn’t look
particularly intelligent.

Jamil hooked up
the hose from the chemical tank on his cart to ‘bot one. As he refilled its
tanks, Tycho ran the self-check program built into the unit. That was routine.
What wasn’t routine was the placement of a microchip specially designed by
Quong. Minuscule in size and perfectly harmless—unless activated—one microchip
inside the ‘bot’s complex inner workings would never be noticed.

By the time the
team had finished with the first ‘bot, numbers two and three had arrived. Quong
ordered robot one back into the duct. Tycho placed identical microchips in ‘bots
two and three.

‘Bot five had just
been serviced when Xris heard a beep in his ear. He looked around. Station
personnel were moving through the work area, going about their business. No one
was paying any attention to the exterminators.

Xris activated the
comm. “Xris here.”

“Harry here. I’m
in the can just outside security. I’m surrounded! Two guys are working the
computers and monitors
and
that damned Marine’s still with me. Nobody
told him he could go home, so he’s sticking to my ass like one of those fleas I
was reading about. I’m surprised he’s not inside the stall with me. What the
hell am I supposed to do now?”

Raoul, where are
you when I need you? Xris asked silently. The charming Loti would have sent the
Marine out for coffee and a sandwich, kept the security officers sniggering at
the latest Adonian ribald jokes, while artlessly leading the conversation
around to FCWing. (“I heard the juiciest rumor about one of
our
employees and one of
yours.
Doing something more than killing bugs, if
you know what I mean! He worked in ... let me see ... somewhere called FCWing.
Yes! In the women’s restroom, no less!”)

And while the
security officers were thinking about FCWing, the Little One would have sucked
their minds dry.

“Harry, we’ve been
through this.” Xris remembered to be patient. “Tell the security personnel you’ve
got to keep an eye on these ‘bots and in order to do that you have to know
where the conduits run. Have security pull up floor plans, and study them. When
you come to one called CCA-2 FCWing, let me know where it’s located.”

“Okay, right.”
Harry sounded glum. “I’ll give it a try. Out.”

Xris shook his
head, turned to Quong. “This may take a while, Doc. Once you’ve serviced ‘bot
fifteen, slow down a bit. Buy us some time.”

Quong passed the
word to Tycho and Jamil, who began to ease up. They had just serviced ‘bot
twenty, with no word from Harry, when Quong tapped Xris on the shoulder.

“Here comes
trouble,” the Doc warned under his breath.

Commander Drake
had emerged from his office. “You guys are running a little behind schedule.”

“It’s this new
software upgrade,” Xris explained. “It’s taking a while to install—” His
commlink buzzed in his ear.

“Xris!” It was
Harry.

“Maybe you should
explain this to me.” Drake was talking at the same time.

Xris looked blank.
“Did you say something, Commander?”

Drake raised his
voice. “I was saying maybe—”