Between Darkness and Light (47 page)

The next morning, after they'd eaten, he gathered his crew in their private lounge off Banner's room and told them about Kezule's need for their help for the next two to three months.

Surprisingly, he was greeted by silence instead of the objections he'd expected.

“Well, at least it's progress,” said Jayza at last. “We've got a time scale now.”

“Progress? You call another three months progress?” exclaimed Dzaou.

“Yes,” grinned Jayza. “And I like the irony of us crawling over the wreck of one of the ships that tried to subdue our world.”

“You have a point,” said Khadui thoughtfully. “Banner, what do you say?”

Banner stirred. “I think we finish the job we came here to do—take Shaidan home to his people, under Kusac's leadership. This is the first time we've actually been given a deadline.”

“It is not,” began Dzaou.

“Shut up, Dzaou,” said Jayza. “You've never had anything positive to say about anything.”

“Enough, both of you,” said Banner sharply. “Dzaou, Jayza has a point. Your constant negative attitude is not appreciated, nor is it helpful.”

Dzaou's ears flattened briefly, and he forced his mouth open in a smile. “Then why the fuss over my mask and dance last night? The General liked it well enough.”

“Because you were told there'd be no traditional festival dances last night,” Kusac said, looking ostentatiously at the wall clock. “We'll have to wind this briefing up now. You're expected at Security by the main elevator in five minutes. Banner will assess the state of the
Zan'droshi
and tell you what items need salvaging. He'll then brief everyone on this shift. Prime vacuum suits can be adapted to fit you, but if there's a problem, Banner will issue you with one of the four on the
Venture
. Dzaou, your mess detail for last night's exhibition starts an hour before third meal. Don't miss it!”

“Where will you be if we need you?” asked Jayza.

“I'll be going over what's survived of their database and comp library with Doctor Zayshul,” he said. “Believe me, I'd rather be with you.”

Banner stopped in the doorway, letting the other three go on ahead of him. “It's been a couple of weeks since you last came to our weekly training sessions.”

“I work out every morning, you know that.”

“It's not enough. You need to spar against a partner as well, and the crew needs to see you there.”

“I'll be there. Just keep Dzaou out of my way,” he said curtly, getting to his feet. “And remind them, they're to smuggle nothing off the
Zan'droshi
, no matter what it is.”

The suit was cumbersome to put on, and the leg pieces had to be virtually remade for him, but Banner was curious to know what it was like to wear a Prime encounter suit—especially the helmet.

“You won't be able to use all the controls,” warned M'zynal, adjusting the inside of the helmet for him. “We've adapted it as best we can for you. Remember, your environmental controls and power are triggered by the keypad we rigged up for your left forearm.”

“I won't forget,” Banner said, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. Refitting the suit for him had taken three hours and he was anxious to get started.

Bending his head forward, he let M'zynal put the helmet on him and fasten the seal. When he raised his head, his senses were overwhelmed by the amount he could see. Feeling decidedly nauseous, he shut his eyes.

“Press once on the mouthpiece to turn off the infravision,” said M'zynal's voice in his ears. “Twice to turn off the tactical display.”

Turning his head blindly within the roomy helmet, he searched for the narrow mouthpiece, only to find himself held firmly by the shoulders.

“Turn your head, Lieutenant Banner, not your neck and shoulders,” reminded the Security chief.

He cursed himself softly for having forgotten that and tried again. Immediately, he found the thin tube they'd installed for him to make up for his lack of a forked tongue. Once, then twice, he pressed it before cautiously opening first one eye, then the other. He could see clearly this time.

“That worked fine,” he said.

“Good. Now try turning on the infravision.”

He pressed the mouthpiece once and instantly M'zynal's face, and those of the people around him, were reduced to colored shapes ranging through various densities of reds, oranges, and blues.

Turning his head, then his body, he experimented to find out how wide his field of vision was: it was impressive when compared with the Sholan suits he was used to.

“I'm trying tactical now,” he said, triggering the suit's HUD display. There was a built-in motion detector at one corner of his vision, plus ranging and targeting grids.

“Experiment,” said M'zynal. “Three presses will lock on your target and four will give you distance and speed. The keypad on your arm controls heat, cooling, and air mix, in that order.”

“Got it,” he said, turning off the infravision and leaving the HUD on. He watched M'zynal don his own helmet then gesture them to head into the air lock for the access tube they'd rigged out to the
Zan'droshi
.

The arrival of the
Zan'droshi
was a heaven-sent opportunity for him to get his hands on some electronics tools and components. There was a little gizmo he wanted to make and this would make it possible for him to do so.

 

Inside the ship, despite the cleared path they were following, it was chaotic. From the blast scars on the bulkheads and carpets underfoot, there had obviously been a vicious and protracted firefight. Every now and then they saw smears of what could only once have been blood.

“How many bodies are still on her?” Banner asked.

“Around two hundred that we've found so far,” said M'zynal. “But we've barely covered two decks. Those the recovery team found have been stored in one of the gyms so we can isolate them in a vacuum when we turn the atmosphere back on in selected areas.”

“What do you plan to do with them?”

M'zynal looked over his shoulder at him. He could clearly see the young male's face behind the visor. “They're so long dead that we're leaving them on the ship when we set it into a decaying orbit round the gas giant. There are far too many of them for us to even think of giving them a decent burial.”

“You bury your dead?”

“In the General's time they did.” M'zynal stopped, holding up his arm to communicate this to those behind them. “Beyond here we've established an Ops Center with an atmosphere and gravity in it. We've got floor plans of the
Zan'droshi
and are mapping the areas to be cleared. On the right side of your helmet, the other mouthpiece is your suit communicator to Kij'ik and the rest of our team. We're being constantly monitored by the bridge and the landing bay flight command in case of any accidents. They've even set up a link to your Captain so you can talk to him if need be.” He began keying open the makeshift air lock. “You and I now share control of this salvage operation, Lieutenant Banner.”

 

“Have you got the monitors up and running yet?” asked Banner, lifting his gaze from the deck plans to look over to M'zynal.

“Going on-line now,” the Prime said as the bank of eight screens suddenly came to life.

Grabbing up his comp pad, he hurried over to the monitors and sat down. He scanned them, registering the name written underneath each screen with the view above it.

“Khadui, pan around that engineering station and tell me what you see,” he instructed.

“This one's in pretty good shape as far as I can tell,” said Khadui's voice. “Only superficial damage to screens and the like. Definitely worth opening up the console for components, same with the computing area next door.”

“Can you manage to do it in suits, or do you need an atmosphere?”

“Could be a long job if we have to do it with our gloves and helmets on.”

Banner looked over at M'zynal.

“Isolating the unit now and initiating atmosphere. Estimated time, ten minutes,” said M'zynal.

“We heard,” said Khadui. “Thanks.”

“Carry on,” said Banner, turning his attention to Jayza in the med lab. “Report, Jayza.”

“Zhookoh is going through the list of things we need. We've a couple of floaters we can load to transport the stuff over to you. We don't need air, we can handle this in our suits.”

“Bring them to HQ to be packed for transportation when you're finished. Dzaou, looks like your team is in a rec hall.”

“Copy that. We've found drinks, games, and furniture, all in an excellent state of preservation. We'll need transportation for them, though.”

“Copy that. It'll be arranged and on its way to you shortly,” said Banner, glancing at M'zynal who was already issuing orders to that effect.

Banner looked at the next monitor. “Shezhul? What's in the Officers' Training Hall?”

So it went for the rest of the day with only a short stop to eat their packaged rations in the HQ's designated mess area.

KUSAC'S day had been strained. A medical office, next to the library on the Officers' level, rather than the library itself, had been made available for them. However, with both him and Zayshul working at one desk and terminal, he kept catching himself inadvertently leaning closer to her, nostrils flaring to better breathe in her scent, in the subconscious hope that they would touch. It came to a head when she leaned back in her seat and rested her head against him with a small sigh of contentment.

He got to his feet hurriedly, suggesting they ask M'kou to find another terminal he could use. M'kou had directed the exchange of the examination bed from their room into the next, and its replacement with the desk and terminal from the adjacent room. That had eased the situation for him, but when their shift finally ended, they were both relieved.

“Don't forget M'kou's bringing you down to the Command level to spend the night with Shaidan,” she said as they closed their terminals.

“I have a training session with my crew first,” he said. “I'll be an hour, possibly two.”

“Being a parent means giving your time to your child,” she began.

“Don't lecture me on parenthood,” he growled, interrupting. “I've been a father for over a year. I must go tonight, it's my duty as their Captain.”

“Take him with you,” she said as the door slid closed behind them.

“No,” he said unequivocally. “It isn't suitable for him to be there. We're sparring, not exercising.”

She glanced curiously at him as they started down the corridor. “Kezule's taken him to your classes when you've been sparring, what makes tonight so different?”

“I don't want him to see us fighting each other. I've been neglecting those duties because of Shaidan for too long. I don't want my crew getting suspicious of our relationship.”

“Does it really matter that much? They'll know one day,” she said reasonably.

“I'll tell them in my own time,” he snapped, beginning to walk faster. He needed to get away from her. The attraction of her scent was suddenly too overpowering, too demanding in its pheromone-laden message. “I'll tell Security when I'm ready to come down.”

 

Missing the weekly crew practice sessions hadn't bothered him as much as it should. It had been one less opportunity for Dzaou to cause trouble. By convention, this was the one time on a distant posting that rank was left outside the gym, except for the one whose turn it was to run the session. He was thankful to find it was Banner.