Impulse (17 page)

On L-4b

S
erosian was guiding us down to the surface of the inner moon of Levant Prime, which we were now calling L-4b. The wave station remained silent and cold as we approached, but I kept my eye on the tactical 'scope all the way, looking for any sign of activity from the wave generator that had emitted the massive energy blast that had allowed
Impulse
to move through the gate. As Serosian had reported earlier, the base had returned to a state of stasis that for all intents and purposes made it indistinguishable from the rocks surrounding it. If we hadn't seen the wave itself we'd never have been able to find the weapon's location.

L-4b itself was a mostly colorless moon, with a dull gray surface and a narrow band of atmosphere that gave the sky a pinkish tone. The surface was mottled with craters and had no visible water, though the mineral scans showed likely underground water sources and carbon dioxide ice caps. It seemed like as good a choice as any for an outlying colony or base, and the main structures for said base were located near the middle latitudes of the satellite's northern hemisphere.

We all gathered in the main bridge area of the yacht to plan strategy. Captain Kierkopf cleared her throat and began.

“Marker and Cochrane will lead the investigation of the base,” she said. “There's an isolated building near the main structure that could be a power station. I want you to go there first and check it out before approaching the main base in any way. Remember, your job is to observe first, make contact only if necessary, and then evaluate the status of the primary base, beginning with this station. All clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Marker and I chorused.

“Mr. Layton will stay on board here to guard the yacht. Once you've scouted the outlying building Mr. Serosian and I will join you to investigate the main base. Got it, gentlemen?”

Again, we replied, “Yes, sir.”

The captain nodded to us to go prepare for our EVA. Serosian said nothing, which I took as tacit acceptance of the plan. At least, I hoped that's what it was.

Fifteen minutes later Marker and I were ready in the yacht's airlock in our full EVA suits. Serosian's landing had been pinpoint perfect. “Looks all clear from here,” I said over the com, looking out the airlock window to the surface of L-4b.

We had landed a click away from the nearest structure, a low-lying building set into the surrounding land and made of the same material as the rocks to disguise it. Another half click beyond was the main generator complex.

L-4b apparently got quite a bit of sun when she swung around her primary, with a slow but steady rotational day, and then the cold shoulder when she went behind Levant Prime or into her “night.” Luckily, it was the satellite's day and she was in a warming cycle, and that meant air temperatures of just over five degrees Celsius at our landing site. I looked out of the shuttle window to see a gray sky with broken gray-pink clouds and about sixty-five percent sunlight compared to Quantar-standard. From the position of the sun I figured we had three hours of daylight left.

“All ready here,” I reported.

“Proceed, Mr. Cochrane,” came the captain's reply in my com.

I hit the airlock switch, the door panel slid open, and a drop-down ramp projected out to the surface. Marker went through first, taking a look around, and then signaled me the all clear. I stepped down the ramp and out onto the surface of an unknown world for the first time.

The ground was gritty with small rocks, pebbles, and ice, and my boots made a scraping sound as I walked out the rear hatch of the yacht. Marker turned to me, his voice cracking on the com.

“Reporting all clear, sir. Landing site is secure,” he said.

“Understood,” said the captain's voice in my com. Serosian may have been master of the yacht, but the captain was clearly in charge of any military mission we were engaged in.

I took a few steps. The gravity of L-4b seemed to be about one-third normal. I moved to secure my coil rifle and sidearm, and as I did my EVA suit made a loud crackling sound with my motion.

“What the hell?” I said.

“You're not going to be sneaking up on anyone,” said Marker.

“Shit! What's the problem?” I started flexing to see if the sound would abate but I got the same result. In fact, it got worse.

“Probably a reaction to the change in air density and temperature. You'd better stay back and let me take the lead,” Marker said.

“Won't you have the same problem?” I asked. Marker shook his head.

“Marine EVA suits are the latest Earth-issue. Exo-skin adapts almost instantly to environmental conditions,” he said. “Yours is standard for shuttle duty, not for fighting in hostile atmospheric environments.” I stood there, chagrined.

“Well, I'll just have to see about getting myself one of those new suits when we get back to High Station,” I said. “Let's get going. Not getting any brighter here.”

“I think that's wise, sir,” said Marker, then he cut his end of the com line. In the low light and with a slight shadow across his visor I couldn't tell if he was laughing at me or not.

We started a stealth approach to the base building, Marker stopping every ten meters or so to wave me forward once he deemed things to be safe. It was embarrassing, hopping from rock to rock, then huddling down as my suit crunched loudly in the cold air. I longed to be at the front, but that job belonged to Marker for the moment.

After several minutes of reconnoitering we arrived at the closest building. It looked simple enough: hexagonal, one level, featureless concrete with a flat roof. Marker went around the corner of the building and out of my sight as I huddled next to a rock. Waiting for him to report from the other side was almost unbearable. After a few seconds I prompted him.

“Marker, any sign of an entrance?” I called impatiently into my com. His reply came back quickly.

“Yes, sir. North side seems to have a man-sized metal door of some kind,” crackled Marker's voice in my receiver. I looked to the gray-pink sky.

“Which way is north?” I said. The com stayed silent for a few moments.

“Offset your compass to .626 degrees from Q-normal magnetic north. That should do it,” came back Marker. I did so in the tactical heads-up display in my suit, using an attached panel embedded in my EVA suit's left arm to key in the changes.

“Set,” I said. “I think I should—”

“I'm at the door,” cut in Marker. “If all goes well I'll be inside in two minutes.”

“Hold,” I said instinctively, then I left the line silent to let Marker know of my disapproval. It was bad enough to be stuck in a crunching EVA suit, but to be babied like a child was humiliating. I felt I should be leading us in. After all, I was the commanding officer.

I came around the building and found Marker standing casually in front of the entrance to the building.

“Report,” I snapped. He kept his cool despite my tone.

“My scan indicates a simple airlock sequence of three. The interior registers sufficient oxygen and heat for human life,” he said.

I simply nodded and walked toward the door, crunching all the way. Marker caught up to me at the first airlock door and scanned the environment beyond us. The airlock was of a simple and utilitarian design, with a magnetic locking system that was easily breached.

The first room was just big enough for the two of us. We shut and locked the door behind us and proceeded to the second gate. Beyond that was a room big enough for five or six men, I guessed. The last barrier had a window that was obscured by dust and grime from the inside. None of these areas looked like they had been occupied in a very long time.

“So let's do it,” I said, facing the last airlock. To be honest, I was excited about the prospect of discovering some long-hidden secret of the First Empire.

I was disappointed when Marker opened the door to a simple holding room with a concrete floor and metal superstructure. I stepped inside and began to investigate. Marker resealed the door behind us. I noticed then that my suit had stopped crunching with every step. Likely the atmosphere was more stabilized, or closer to what we considered normal.

“We've lost contact with the yacht,” said Marker. I looked to him.

“Our orders were to investigate this building, Mr. Marker. Let's proceed,” I said. He nodded, and we started going farther into the room.

Ambient light seemed to emanate from the ceiling, but there was no one particular light source I could identify. I noticed that the light was roughly equivalent to the outside of the building in daylight. At the far end of the room, which was big enough to hold perhaps ten people, there was a dusty staircase leading down into the dark.

“Most of the complex must be underground,” said Marker. “It would make sense. Use the natural terrain as an insulator.” I looked around the room.

“What do you make of the technology we've seen so far?” I asked. Marker spun in a circle illuminating the room, his flashlight scanning through gray dust kicked up by our entrance.

“Rudimentary,” he said. “Minimum required to maintain operations. What I suppose you'd expect from a military base.”

I nodded. “Yeah, just what you'd expect. I just don't know if that should worry us or not.”

“Don't worry, sir, I'll protect you,” said Marker, hefting his coil rifle. I smiled at that.

“Comforting.”

I switched on my suit light and Marker did the same. Then we proceeded down the metal steps into the darkness with Marker taking the lead. Neither of us said a thing until we reached the bottom, where there was a small landing.

From there we walked down a long, wide tunnel of blank concrete with no doors or openings of any kind. After a hundred meters the long tunnel split into three. Straight ahead was more of the same, and to either side were curving hallways with deep-set door coveys at equal distances on either side of the hall. Marker flashed his light to the right; I illuminated left. The halls seemed identical.

“Circular design, possibly laboratories or living quarters,” I suggested.

“More likely maintenance areas,” said Marker. “This main hall is clearly for moving large items from one location to another, maybe even from building to building. The rooms on the outer rim would be for receiving and maintenance, most likely.”

“Let's find out,” I said. We began to explore the rooms. Marker and I went left to the first door. It opened simply enough with Marker's magnetic lock breaker.

Inside we found very little. Empty metal racks, hanging electrical wires with nothing attached to them, and consoles with large square holes where it looked like control panels had been stripped out.

“Whoever left here took anything of value, anything they could carry, with them,” said Marker. I grunted my agreement.

“And it looks like they left a long time ago.” I said. This time it was Marker who had no answer.

We moved on, but going from room to room the situation was the same. Anything of value, anything that would have left a clue as to the colony's former inhabitants or their technology, was stripped away. We found what could only be a loading dock with lifters, now immobilized, a galley, and even a vehicle maintenance bay, but nothing of any significance left behind. Eventually we came to a large, seamless door on the far side from where we had come in.

“Freight lifter,” commented Marker. He attached the magnetic lock breaker to what looked like the lock, offset to the left of the doors. After a few seconds the key lock turned and the doors split along an invisible seam, opening to a wide and tall lifter.

Marker and I went in and examined the door mechanism. It was the first one we'd found that was electronically active. There were three buttons, glowing with a white LED light source. The characters on the buttons were unreadable.

“Not Imperial Standard lettering, that's for sure. I'm guessing we have a choice of three levels,” I said.