Chapter 16

28 Librae System
GNS Challenger Seven
02/10/42 NR 0800 Hours

“Missiles away,” Kayla Robbins reported quietly. She sat at the flag bridge’s tactical station, and she tapped at a keyboard visible only to herself as she updated the master plot.

“Thank you, Kayla,” Admiral Aaron Peters acknowledged. He watched the quartet of missiles streak toward the research base on Zene. Adam Thomas had been furious when he received the order to evacuate, but he’d complied without any resistance. Now, he stood at the back of the flag bridge, a statue of cold reproof for what Aaron was about to do.

The missiles’ aeroshells glowed white hot as they slammed into Zene’s tenuous atmosphere. A corona of plasma wreathed the deadly vehicles in fire as they stooped on their target. Particles of ablative heat shield peeled off, diverting the fierce heat of atmospheric entry from the structures beneath the shields.

Five minutes after launch, the missiles arrived at their targets and sought their impact points with finicky precision. The rocket motors cut off barely a second before the missiles slammed into the rocky ground. The protective aeroshells were instantly crushed, but the armored warheads burrowed a hundred meters into the moon’s rocky crust. Main and backup fuses flashed as one, and four megaton-range fireballs flashed into existence. Tons of rock flashed to plasma, vaporizing the alien installation and everything else for a kilometer around it.

“Target confirmed destroyed, “Kayla reported after the plumes of debris had settled.

Aaron nodded and turned to his communications officer. “Please instruct the task force to execute its helm orders.” He settled into his chair and watched the plot as his ships set course for the wormhole to 10 Ceti.

Theta Coronae Australis System Away Team, Arwen 02/10/42 NR 0850 Hours

Thunder rumbled in the distance as the storm passed by. Luisa stood barefoot in the grass, arms spread wide as if to welcome a lover, as the warm rain washed down her upturned face. She caroled her glee into the gray clouds overhead, and Aaron laughed from somewhere behind her. She turned to see, and he was standing there in his uniform, and he was pointing a pistol at her. The gun flashed, and Luisa screamed ... Her eyes popped open, and Luisa jerked upright, her voice echoing in her helmet. Harold’s body was still there, and she rose to her knees and looked around. No one was in sight, and Luisa breathed a sigh of relief. She checked her suit readouts, and noticed that her environmental system had automatically increased the oxygen flow when she’d passed out.

Harold had nearly a full hour of air left, and Luisa wasted no time in transferring his remaining supply to her system, using the power from his suit to make the transfer. She looked around as her head cleared, reading the tracks in the dust. She had crawled ten meters from the crater lip to Harold’s body, obliterating any tracks leading in that direction. The regolith close to her bore a confusing mass of footprints and drag marks, and she could make no sense of them.

Luisa carefully stood up, her leg muscles cramping from the effects of oxygen starvation. She noted a fist sized rock on the ground, resting in a boot print. She picked it up and examined it closely. A faint tinge of red coated the sharp end, and small particles of plastic glinted from tiny fissures in the rock. Judging from Harold’s injuries and the state of his visor, this was the weapon April had used to murder him.

She dropped the rock next to its victim, and examined the tracks on the far side of the crime scene. A single set of tracks came from the far side of the crater, and Luisa followed them, staying to one side to avoid obliterating them. The tracks led up to the crater rim, skirting the nearly sheer hillside that towered above her.

As she topped the rise, Luisa found herself looking right at the moon’s primary. The planet’s reflected light wasn’t harsh enough to disturb her, and she stopped for a moment to take in the sight of the resplendent gas giant, flanked by a few bright stars.

Looking down again, the Martian followed the tracks down, skirting the edge of a deeper crater to her left. She arrived at a saddle, where this crater joined a much larger one. The trail became a muddle of footprints once more, and Luisa bent down to read them more clearly. She moved carefully along the slope, picking the story out of the dust. Finally, she stood where his footprints had vanished, and considered the abyssal depths of the crater. Luisa shook her head and turned to retrace her steps; she had neither the stamina nor the air supply to risk climbing down to find him.

She ascended to the saddle, and, like Jacques before her, pulled up short as she too spotted the cave and the craft within. Understanding struck her like a laser burst, and she yelled in exultation despite the circumstances. Scrambling along the crater rim, Luisa tripped over a rock and nearly fell. She schooled herself to be patient, and she worked her way along the narrow ledge to the cavern mouth. There were no footprints here; the layer of fine dust was pristine.

Silvery metal gleamed in Gandalf’s soft light, and Luisa played her helmet light into the back of the cavern, along the craft’s flank. The craft’s wing nearly touched the cavern wall, while the tail, barely visible in the gloom at the rear of the cavern, appeared to reach to the cavern roof. The basic outline was familiar, raked delta wings, a single vertical tail, and small canards at the bulbous nose. The entire craft was a study in beautifully flowing lines that had never come from Earth or Mars.

Luisa stepped up to the alien machine and placed a trembling hand on its hull. There were no signs of paint or markings, and the metal was flawless, with no visible seams, welds or fasteners. The craft sat poised on three gear legs shod with broad landing pads. The gear wells were tightly covered, with hardly an indication of where the doors would split to admit the landing gear when it was retracted.

A telltale blinked in Luisa’s helmet display, and she focused on it. Armstrong’s next pass was in twenty minutes, and the scout would be in comms range in fifteen minutes. She could still call for help, but her air would not last until the shuttle could descend and land. That had not changed since her fight with April, despite the extra supply she’d taken from Harold’s suit. Jacques body was out of reach, and April was still out there – somewhere.