Return to Dakistee (11 page)

"Lt. Lindall, ma'am," was all he said.

"Stand easy, Lieutenant. Are you delivering a VIP?"

"No, ma'am. We have a delivery for you from Admiral Holt. We were on our way to Nordakia to deliver a diplomatic pouch and he requested that we divert slightly to bring you important equipment."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. We've been expecting a delivery, but I thought it might be coming via Quartermaster ship."

"We're taking some of the load off the Quartermaster Corps in this deca-sector now that we have one of the new DS ships. We're ferrying small shipments and groups of personnel."

"Your ship is DS?"

"Yes, ma'am. Fresh out of the yard three months ago."

"Is it a new design?"

"Sail to keel. And is she ever fast. The trip to Higgins from Earth takes just four days, and we made it here in one."

"Any armament?"

"Well, we
are
supposed to be a diplomatic yacht, so we don't want to look like a scout destroyer, but we have four disguised laser arrays and hidden missile tubes fore and aft. Our missiles have limited punch, unlike the serious torpedoes you line officers have, but if someone attacks us, we can mount a defense of sorts while we prepare to go to Light-9790."

As they talked, ratings had carried two large cases over to Christa's shuttle.

"There's your delivery, Commander. Is there anything else you'll be needing from us?"

"No. Thank you, Lt. Lindall. Extend my appreciation to your captain."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

It took thirty minutes to set up one of the projectors the next morning. Instead of directing the beam from the side as they had been doing with the Chembrite panels, Christa and Carmoody set the projector directly in front of the door with the lens opened wide enough to cover the entire door. After they had both donned special eye protection goggles, Christa started at ten nanometers, the low end of the ultraviolet part of the spectrum, and gradually increased the wavelength. At three hundred nm, something began to appear on the door. Christa fine-tuned the wavelength and the image sharpened.

"I'll be damned," Carmoody said. "Look at that."

Christa's attention was already focused on the door and the now clearly visible markings. There was a tiny alphabetic or numeric symbol at each of the thirty-eight marks on each circle and, while the order was the same on all six circles, the starting position was different. No one would ever have chanced upon the combination. Most importantly, each circle had a large alphabetic symbol in the center.

"Damn," Christa said. "It says rodent hole. We were even using the wrong order for the cylinders."

"We would have been here a thousand years if we hadn't gotten this projector."

"Let's not gloat too quickly. There may be additional parts to this puzzle we haven't discovered yet. Let's put our new information to the test."

Five minutes later they had placed the cylinders on the right circles and aligned them with the proper symbols. Christa stood back and uttered the Ancient command for 'unlock.'

Nothing happened.

"Okay," Christa said, "it's time for Plan B." She reset the cylinders to the starting positions in each circle, then, one at time, without moving the cylinder away from the door, she twisted each until it pointed at the symbol identical to the one engraved on the cylinder. As she moved the last one into position, a rumbling sound could be heard from within the door as cams that hadn't moved in almost two hundred centuries tried to turn to new positions and bolts retracted into the door so it could move.

When no noises were heard for several seconds, Christa reached out and removed the cylinders from the door. She then said, "dwuthathsei," which was the Nordakian word for 'open.' It hadn't changed very much in the nineteen thousand, four hundred years since the Ancients had occupied the planet.

The door began to rumble again, then complained loudly as it slid into the door pocket.

As the door completed its travel, Carmoody looked at Christa and said, "Now what?"

"First I have to go report our breakthrough, and then we get to find out what was so valuable that the Ancients employed these incredibly complex machinations to protect it from prying eyes."

Chapter Eight

~ October 8
^th
, 2285 ~

As the two Space Command officers approached the surface, Christa halted to speak with Carmoody.

"We've been pretty depressed the past few weeks because we didn't seem to be making any progress. It's important that we continue that depression. Right now you look much too happy, so you'll have to ratchet it down a few notches."

"Why?" Carmoody asked. "We opened the door. That's cause for celebration."

"If there's one thing I've learned when I'm not aboard ship, it's that someone is always watching. There can be any number of reasons, and most often it's innocent curiosity, but I would be willing to bet a year's salary that there's at least one Raider spy watching us whenever we're in the open."

"A Raider spy? How can you be so sure?"

"I have a deep appreciation for their intelligence-gathering and they have to have learned about this find since everyone on the planet seems to know about it. They've had plenty of time to place a dozen spies in the archeology camp so at least one can always be watching for any sign that we've been successful."

"But you've closed and locked the door again."

"It doesn't matter. I don't want them to know we've opened it. We have limited protection here and I don't want to let them think they can gain access somehow."

"But surely the Marines can stop them."

"Maybe, and maybe not. Either way, it's easier just to keep them from learning even the smallest bit of information. Now put on your most dejected look. The one you were wearing all day yesterday would be
perfect
."

"I'm not going to be able to look depressed if you keep making jokes," Carmoody said with a grin.

"Okay. Sorry." Christa said with a smile. "Now give me a depressed look." After a couple of seconds, Christa said, "That's good. Hold that one." Masking her own face with a look of boredom and fatigue, she turned and led the way out of the tunnel into the bright afternoon sun.

Once inside the shuttle, Christa said, "Okay, you can drop the act. No one can see us in here."

"What act?" Carmoody said. "I'm genuinely depressed about spies possibly watching our every move. You're not sure though, right?"

"I have no proof, but I know it as sure as I know that I need a cup of coffee. Join me?"

"Thanks. I'll get them while you send the message. Colombian, two sugars, black, right?"

"Right."

When Christa returned from the cockpit, Carmoody was relaxing with her coffee. Christa's full mug was on the table and had cooled enough that she could take a big sip.

"Okay, the message is sent," Christa said as she took a seat. "But if we go back into the tunnel now, it will look suspicious. Let's wait until tomorrow. In fact, perhaps we should wait until we have some additional forces here. As soon as we start exhibiting signs of increased activity, we're going to have archeologists climbing all over us, trying to gain information about the find."

"Fine with me. I'm not in any hurry to die."

"Die?"

"Haven't you ever seen any of those old mummy movies? People walk in and disturb a tomb, and, the next thing you know, mummies are popping up everywhere, trying to kill the entire cast.

"Gracie, that only happens in the movies," Christa said with a giggle.

"Really? Look what happened the last time you opened a facility like this one. Didn't you tell me you had to live in a sewer for weeks before you could escape from the facility?"

"But we were escaping from Raiders, not mummies."

"And isn't the code word to open the door 'rodent hole?' That speaks volumes."

"It may not be a literal translation. As you said, it's a code word. Code words that mislead are often assigned to operations and projects."

"And didn't you just tell me we're being watched by Raiders?"

"There's a big difference between being watched and being attacked. We just have to make sure we don't let them know we've opened the facility until after the Marine reinforcements arrive."

"What Marine reinforcements? From what I've seen on this planet, the Corps doesn't have enough people to control a wild wedding party, much less a Raider attack."

"That was the purpose of my message. I told Admiral Holt we need every Marine he can get for us."

"I hope he comes through."

* * *

"Ahil," Chairman Strauss said, "Costs for the operation on Dakistee are mounting. Our people have been sitting on their brains for months now just waiting to attack. What the devil is taking Carver so long to open that damned door?"

"I just received word that two cases were delivered by the diplomatic service, contents unknown. At the time of the delivery, it was believed she hadn't yet been able to open the facility."

"The Diplomatic Corps? What could the Diplomatic Corps possibly have that was required to open the door?"

"We don't know. Carver was observed carrying one of the cases into the tunnel yesterday morning where she remained until lunchtime, then returned to her shuttle. She and her assistant both appeared to be dejected, as if their latest attempt had failed. This is supported by the fact that she hasn't increased the Marine protection. She still has just two sentries at the entrance."

"Is there anything further we can do to assist her efforts— without her knowing who's behind the assistance?"

"She's been very closemouthed about her progress. No one on the planet knows what the status is or what her plans are."

"She appears to be just like her sister Jenetta," Councilwoman Overgaard said. "I understand Admiral Carver has always been very closemouthed until it's necessary to let other others know of her plans. But perhaps we could make it necessary."

"What do you mean?" Fazid asked.

"Suppose we were to arrange a visit by a high-ranking official from the GA Council, or better yet, from Space Command. She would have to detail her progress if they asked, wouldn't she?"

"Possibly," Strauss said thoughtfully, "depending on their position and security clearance. If we send someone, they must be high-ranking, or in a position to request secure information regarding her progress. See to it Ahil."

"But Arthur, I don't believe we have anyone in such a position," Fazid said.

"Then speak to our Intelligence Section. We have numerous sources kept in deep cover where no more than one or two members of our organization know of their existence. It's for their protection and allows us to preserve our most valuable resources for the day when we need them."

"Very well. I'll consult with the Intelligence Director today."

* * *

"Before we begin," Admiral Moore announced to his fellow officers seated around the large, horseshoe-shaped table, as well as everyone else in the large hall always used for meetings of the Admiralty Board, "no word of the next topic is to leave this room." He looked around before continuing. The gallery was empty, but the usual assortment of aides and clerks were sitting behind their admirals.

"Lt. Commander Christa Carver has succeeded in opening the second Dakinium-sheathed facility found on Dakistee."

"About time," Admiral Hubera said.

"Donald," Admiral Moore said in a tone that dripped with reproach.

"Well, she's been there for more than five months working on this one problem, Richard. All she had to do was open one little door."

"As you know, Donald, we only just acquired the last of the six cylinders needed to open the door," Admiral Hillaire said. "Considering that she managed to open the facility in relatively short order once she had the proper apparatus, I'd say she's done outstanding work. And don't forget that it was
she
who uncovered the role the cylinders played in this effort."

"How could I," Hubera snapped back, "with you reminding us constantly?"

"What has she discovered inside, Richard?" Admiral Platt asked of Admiral Moore. "Is it another cloning facility?"

"The report forwarded by Admiral Holt states that at the time of the report, she had managed to open the facility but hadn't yet entered it. She's requested more Marine forces for her protection detail."

"More forces! More forces! Humph! It's always the same story with the Carvers. She's as bad as her sister."

"Donald, I remind you that with Admiral Jenetta Carver you're speaking of a senior officer," Admiral Moore said. "Be careful with your rhetoric."

Admiral Hubera clamped his mouth shut and leaned back in his chair, obviously upset by the warning. Jenetta Carver had been a mere cadet when he was a senior instructor at the Academy, and rancor towards her had increased with every promotion she received as she climbed through the ranks. Now she was senior to him, with four stars to his two, and resentment ate at his insides every time he heard her name or thought about her. He had already suffered one major heart attack when his temper got the best of him because of her military successes in Regions Two and Three.

"This facility is deep underground like the other, is it not?" Admiral Bradlee asked. "With only one entrance to guard, Commander Carver shouldn't be so concerned about being overrun by a bunch of scientists that it delays her further investigation."

"We've all seen mob violence," Admiral Moore said. "If we only have a few Marines on duty, the likelihood of violence increases. I would hate to see a shooting incident occur there. A crowd is far less likely to charge a well-staffed sentry post."

"Stun rifles should be adequate for simple crowd control," Admiral Plimley said.

"Anytime you use force, you must be prepared for the most dire of consequences," Admiral Bradlee said. "If you stun someone, they're potentially down for hours. During that time they can be trampled or suffocate from the weight of other bodies who fall on top of them. They might even be used as shields by others."