They Also Serve (2 page)

"You want to cut ice?" Matt frowned in surprise.

Ray took a deep breath. "I know space. Don't know ship driving. Captain Rodrigo, mind a broken-down civilian helping?"

"No problem, Colonel," came quickly.

Matt eyed him, doubt and concern balanced against Ray's confused status as passenger and boss, then turned back to his commlink. "All right, crew. Let's start hacking armor."

Ray blessed Mary for letting him work; exhausted, each night he fell into dreamless sleep. By the time the ice armor was down to frost, Matt had answers. "We've sliced and diced our net's code and found a present left over from the war."

"I knew you'd pissed some folks off when I hired you, but this bad?"

"Apparently Admiral Whitebred was gunning for us before we didn't annihilate your planet. He installed a bug to make sure we didn't survive our first jump without him. So this whole mess wasn't aimed at you."

"Unless the guys setting up this meeting knew about this little add-on to your netware. If Whitebred told somebody who told somebody ..." Ray trailed off. "I want to talk to that guy-"

"You're last in a very long line, Mr. Minister." Whoops! When Matt started Mr. Ministering Ray, he wanted something. "Right now I need a call from you as owner. As a general rule, all ships answer all distress calls. This one is three hundred years old. It could be argued it can wait a bit. We need to find a way home. Still, a base in this system could help us. You've got the pregnant wife. Which do we do?"

"My wife was a ship driver, Matt. She'd never ignore a distress signal. Hell, she was sending one a few months back."

"Then, Mr. Minister, we head insystem."

After which we'll find the way home, Ray promised himself. Home before the baby came.

Two

NIKKI MULRONEY WAS hot and off balance helping Daga lug the heavy box she'd found. She had been their leader for as long as Nikki could remember. Daga was the adventurous one, the girl who had found more ways to get them all into trouble than the rest combined. She found stuff in the caves under the hills. Most of her finds were small, different-colored shiny things, that glowed in the dark. Daga had taken to stringing them on necklaces or wristbands and giving them to boys. Daga was a lot of fun ... until recently.

The box Nikki and Daga now carried wasn't shiny, and it did not look like it would glow in the dark. It was heavy. Three feet long and maybe a foot and a half square on its ends, its covering felt like ceramics. Orange, it had been cold; now it warmed in the summer morning sun.

Nikki had no idea what it was; that was what they were here to find out. They struggled to the crest of a small hill, far from the tended fields of Hazel Dell. It was time for Emma and Willow to take their turn with the box.

"This is far enough. Put it down," Daga ordered. She was really bossy lately. But Nikki did what she was told, taking the moment to stretch her aching muscles and look back. You could see the houses of Hazel Dell, tiny in the distance. Women and men were at work, just specks, their tools invisible. The girls should have worked today. But last night Daga had whispered she'd found something new, something really big, and the four of them had slipped away before dawn and set out on this adventure.

As soon as Nikki got home tonight, her da would have something to say about her absence. Her ma would remind him that young girls had just as much right to see what was on the other side of a mountain as boys. "You're sounding like a big-city grump, dear. Nikki is thirteen. She'll plow many a row when she has kids of her own. Let her have her summers now." Which always left Nikki wondering what Ma had done when her three children were only a distant question mark. When asked, Ma always smiled and said, "Nothing you haven't done, dear."

Nikki turned back to her friends. Daga was feeling around the box. Emma and Willow stood aside as they usually did, waiting to see what Daga had gotten them into. Nikki knelt beside the box and started her own exploration. An area near the bottom sank under her pressure. A crack appeared around the middle of the box, hardly wide enough for a fingernail.

"Oh," came from all four girls. Daga inserted a thumbnail to force the box open; the nail bent. Nikki rummaged in her pouch for her knife, found it, and wedged it in the crack. The ceramic blade bent alarmingly; the crack did not widen. Even with all four girls' knives leveraging together, the crack stayed a crack.

"Must be a second catch," Daga said, feeling around the box again. "Where was that spot?" Nikki showed her.

They pressed it again. Nothing. They felt around. Nothing. They tried the same spot at each corner. The opposite far corner depressed when they tried it. "I did that before," Daga scowled as the crack widened to a half inch.

"Probably have to be pressed in order," Willow suggested. She was the logical one.

"Well, let's all lift a corner. Together, on my count," Daga said, and the others followed. At their pull, the box unfolded like a flower, struts and accordion parts expanding smoothly and fully. The girls stepped back.

"Think it's from the Landers?" Emma asked timidly.

"No," Daga insisted, rubbing her temples. Was she getting another of her headaches? "In school, the townies are all the time telling us how the Landers used everything they brought from the stars and we shouldn't be spreading out and messing up the whole planet. Why would they put something like this way out here?"

"It's from the little people," Emma breathed. Her grandda, the village storyteller, told wonderful tales of the "wee ones." Nikki was never sure whether they were about the little people of old Ireland on Earth or under the hills beyond Hazel Dell. Both were nothing but stories, Da insisted. Still, Daga kept finding things, and somebody had to make them. Da's answer to that was a snort and a "They're made that way." Ma's answer was a shrug. Nikki wondered what her folks would say about this find.

As usual, Daga recovered first from the surprise. "Hey, look." A thin square, about a foot on each side and a half inch thick, had risen from the box on two spindly legs. The square went from black to gray to crystal clear on one side in the space of a breath. The other side stayed flat black.

"That's weird," Willow said.

"But look on this side," Daga crowed, shading her eyes. Nikki did, and saw the distant mountains. Daga jiggled the glass a bit. Now they had a perfect view of one of the taller peaks on the horizon, as if it were only across the valley.

"Neat!" Emma exclaimed. "Let's turn it around and see what's happening in Hazel Dell."

"Wait a bit," Daga answered, adjusting the square until the distant peak filled the glass. "I've always wanted to go out there. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could find a good trail through the mountains? There have to be valleys on the other side. Whole new fields to farm."

The box began to hum; it throbbed under their hands. The girls, even Daga, stepped back a pace or two.

"What's happening?" Willow shrieked.

"I don't know," Daga answered.

"It's coming alive." Emma smiled in a fay way.

"It's a machine," Daga insisted.

"We don't know what it is!" Nikki shouted as the noise rose. The box throbbed in the warm sunlight; the girls took several more steps back. Nikki put her hands to her ears. "We have to do something!" she shouted.

"What?" Emma squeaked.

Daga took a step forward as the box exploded in a blinding flash of light.

"The mountain's gone," the diminutive midshipman assisting at sensors mused. She'd been introduced to Ray as Kat.

"What?" Ray and Matt snapped at once. Ray clamped his mouth shut. This was a ship matter; it was the captain's problem.

"Well, there was a mountain," the middie said, studying her board, "on our first orbit. It's not there on the second."

"A mountain!" Matt echoed.

"Yes, Matt," Sandy answered, "five, six thousand meters' worth of mountain. Snowcapped. Big."

"It's ... gone?" Matt gulped.

"The top two thousand meters," Kat corrected.

"A volcano?" The captain tried for a natural explanation.

"It's not smoking like one." Sandy shook her head. "No ejecta. No deep hole."

"It's perfectly level," Kat observed matter-of-factly. "About a meter higher on one side than on the other, as if carved by a laser."

"We don't have lasers like that," Matt pointed out.

"I know," Sandy agreed.

"I wonder what did it?" Kat's eyes were deep with innocent curiosity. Ray wondered if this next generation would live long enough to learn the meaning of fear. His generation had plenty.

Matt hit his commlink. "Ivan, raise orbit. Now!"

Nikki looked at the box. It had collapsed in upon itself an instant after the blinding flash of light. On the horizon, there was a hole in the mountain range. The one they had been looking at was gone, cut off just where the bottom of the glass had been. Emma and Willow were gone, too, racing down the hill as if a banshee was after them. Daga eyed the box.

"We have to get rid of it!" Nikki shouted.

"Maybe," Daga answered, pulling on her hair like she did just before she came up with some of her worst adventures.

"Daga, look! The mountain is gone. Gone! See!"

"Yes, I see."

"What if we had pointed it at Hazel Dell, like Emma wanted?"

"It would be gone."

"Yes! Right, we have to bury that box, dump it in a pool deep in one of your caves."

"What if it had been pointed at a city?" Daga asked softly. "Now, that would get their attention, wouldn't it?"

"Daga, you would not!" Lately Daga had been more and more bugged about the city folks snubbed the farmers. Nobody liked city grumps. But nobody hated them . . . not that much!

"Probably, but it would get their attention. Those goodie-goodie clean hands might treat us with a little more respect if they knew more than potatoes came from the farms."

"Daga, I don't like city grumps any more than you. But making a whole city disappear! We could never do that."

"Who says we'd make a city disappear? Maybe just a hill near a city. They may be grumps and snobs, but they learn things in school, just like we do. Think we could teach them a lesson?"

"Daga, no!"

"Here, take the other end of the box. I'll take the heavy end. We'll be going downhill. It'll be easier."

Nikki shook her head. This was not a good idea. This was no fun adventure. Still, under Daga's eyes, she picked up her end of the box and began carrying it downhill. At least the missing mountain was far away. None of the grown-ups ever came this far from the village; maybe they'd never notice it was gone. Maybe she and Emma and Willow could talk sense into Daga.

Ray Longknife observed the activity on Matt's bridge, his face a placid mask, doing nothing to disturb those with a job to do. Matt swam with the easy grace of an experienced spacer, glided from ceiling handhold to stationhold, or even held steady above a workstation that had his attention at the moment.

"Coming up on point of interest," the helm announced.

Ray eyed the small continent that held their attention. If he remembered his old Earth geography correctly, this area was much like Australia. The smallest of the planet's landmasses, it, however, lay just off the
southeastern
edge of the largest landmass, separated by a large archipelago of islands, with two or three wide channels. If Ray had to choose a home for a pitiful remnant of humanity, this would be it, small enough to give them safety, big enough for growth, close enough to bigger things to let them spread out when their children were ready.

"Any more pruned mountains?" Matt asked, sailing back to his chair beside Ray. Matt had moved
Second Chance
into a much higher orbit, officially for a broader view. Everyone breathed easier as they put distance between themselves and whatever could shave mountains.

"No, sir," Kat replied before Sandy could. "There's agricultural and urban areas. Nothing on the electromagnetic spectrum but low-level static from electric motors."

Ray studied the map on the main view. Farmland showed as a brown swath along the small south continent's eastern coast. Rivers lead it inland to wash up on the mountain range that had captured their attention so rudely. Black dots of various sizes denoted urban areas, most along rivers or coastal inlets. The map filled in as more data was processed, evaluated, and judged credible. Ray glanced at Matt the same moment the captain turned to Ray. "Suggestions?" Matt said.

"Get some unmanned recon assets down there," Ray said.

"Exec, put a communication satellite in lower geo-orbit that'll keep that continent covered."

"Yes, sir." The XO turned to her board and got busy.

Matt leaned closer to Ray. "Boss, I need some help." Ray smiled, glad for the skipper's asking. "I got some ideas about how to get home, but it's hunt-and-peck time. A ship's chances of staying in space increase if it's got a base to fall back on if things break."

Ray chuckled. "Captain, you looking for an ambassador to some dirtside chums that can make mountains vanish?"

"Got it in one, Colonel."

Ray leaned back. "Never been an ambassador before. Might be less exciting than storming mountain passes guarded by Mary."

"Might be downright boring," Matt quipped. "Thanks to you, we've got the assets on board to set up quite a base." Actually, Captain Anderson had insisted the next explorer ship carry damn near enough equipment to rebuild itself. Claimed that was the way they explored the Americas in Shakespeare's time. Ray adopted the idea only when Rita's dad found the gear at salvage prices. Now he hoped it was as good as Papa Nuu said it was.

"You concentrate on finding a way home while I shake hands, kiss babies, and manage mountain moving," Ray drawled. "Just remember, I want to be there when Rita makes me a dad."

"Right. Nobody wants to be the ship driver who has to explain to Rita why Daddy got home late."

They laughed, as if getting home was a done deal. After all, they had all of six months. Around them, the bridge relaxed. The bosses were confident. Why shouldn't the rest of the crew be as well? What could be down there that they couldn't handle?

Jeff Sterling settled into his usual chair.

"How's the rape-and-pillage business?" came from the public room's kitchen in a light, dancing voice, Annie Mulroney's usual morning greetings to him.

"How should I know? Vicky and Mark aren't talking to me," Jeff answered in feigned innocence.

Annie bounced from the kitchen to set his usual brown bread and steaming tea in front of him, her black hair flying, green eyes shining. Resting her elbows on the counter, she met his gaze eye to eye. "Surely the junior son of the great Sterling family knows what got strip-mined yesterday and who made a mint. Hasn't some leprechaun whispered in your ear this fine morning, some infernal machine blared at you the stock market report?"