Knights Of The Black Earth Page 17

  "I see you've got a new team this time, Schwartz." The lieutenant was relaxed, jovial, obviously thankful for any excuse to break the monotonous duty on this isolated space station. "So Kloosterman and Lypps got stranded on Clinius, did they? Poor bastards. Dullest planet in the galaxy. And you got tagged for this detail."

  "Yes, sir. We were the only ones available who were cleared for the job." Xris gestured behind him. "You want to look over our equipment?"

  The lieutenant gave it a bored glance. "Maybe a quick look. Just to make sure you guys aren't trying to smuggle jump-juice in here." He laughed. Xris gave a polite chuckle.

  The lieutenant did a head count. "Our scans indicated six life-forms. Who's still on board?"

  "My pilot is waiting to move the plane over to the docks, and I've got an injured crew member. The load shifted when we made the jump. He got clonked a good one."

  The lieutenant was concerned. 'Tll summon a medic."

  "Won't be necessary, sir, thanks. He's out cold."

  "But it won't be any trouble," the lieutenant persisted. "Our doctor could check him over while you work."

  "One of our guys is an EMT. He bandaged him up. It's not really necessary to bother your medical staff. Besides, technically he was injured on Olicien property. The company's responsible. Your people would have to fill out a diskload of forms, what with worker's comp, insurance, medical release waivers. It wouldn't be worth the hassle just for a bump on the head."

  "You've got a point." The lieutenant considered the situation a moment, wrote down something on his electronic notepad. He showed it to Xris, offered an electronic pen. "I've made a notation that I offered medical treatment and that you refused. If you'd sign here..."

  Xris did so, solemnly scrawling the name "Aaron Schwartz" on the line indicated.

  "There. That should satisfy the authorities." The lieutenant smiled, relieved. "Sergeant, take your detail on board."

  The soldiers trooped up the ramp. Jamil and the others moved to one side to let them past. A few of the Marines gave Tycho an odd look. The chameleon's skin had, unfortunately, changed to the same obnoxious yellow color as his coverails.

  Five minutes later, the Marines exited the plane. The sergeant made his report.

  "Nothing out of the ordinary, Lieutenant. All the equipment checks out. The injured man seems okay. He's asleep. I didn't want to disturb him."

  The lieutenant turned back to Xris. "Very well, Schwartz. Move your plane over to loading dock 28L. The sergeant here will escort you gentlemen to that location to unload your gear, then on to Engineering. Clear?"

  "Yes, sir. Thanks." Xris yelled up to Tycho, who had keyed the intercom button on the door control. "Tell Harry he has clearance to move into loading dock 28L. We'll meet him there."

  Tycho solemnly repeated the message via the spaceplane's comm, although Harry had already heard everything over his own internal coremlink.

  The spaceplane lifted from the deck and glided smoothly forward.

  The lieutenant spoke a few words to the sergeant, then headed for the exit. The sergeant ordered one of his men to stay with the team, and dismissed the rest.

  "Good hunting, Schwartz," the sergeant said, smiling.

  "Thanks for the help, Sergeant."

  The sergeant left. Xris and his team, accompanied by a young Marine, were marched over to loading dock 28L. They found the plane there ahead of them, settled on the deck in the designated area. Harry lowered the cargo ramp.

  Jamil, Tycho, and Quong located several floating air-carts, activated them, and took them up the ramp into the spaceplane. Harry joined Xris on the deck. The escort Marine stood several meters away, his beam rifle carelessly slung over his shoulder. He was relaxed, interested in the proceedings, which were a change from boring routine. He certainly wasn't expecting trouble.

  In low tones, Harry asked, "Everything go okay?"

  "So far."

  Tycho and Jamil appeared, pushing air-carts loaded with equipment down the ramp.

  Quong shoved the last cart out of the plane. He reached over to the control panel to close the hatch.

  Xris waved, caught the Doc's attention. The hatch took twenty seconds to cycle through before it opened. Those twenty seconds might mean the difference between life and death if they had to make a fast exit.

  Quong left the hatch open, the ramp in place, and joined the others on the loading dock.

  "We're all set to go, boss," Jamil said loudly.

  The Marine glanced back at the spaceplane. "You're not going to shut the hatch, sir?"

  Xris grinned. "Why, kid? You afraid someone's gonna steal my plane?"

  The Marine stared, momentarily taken aback. Then he laughed, somewhat shamefacedly. "No, sir. I guess not. If you'll follow me. Oh, and, uh, sir. I'm sorry, but smoking's not permitted anywhere in the space station."

  Xris had the twist in his mouth. He started to offer his customary explanation that he wasn't going to smoke the damn thing, then decided it would be easier to put the twist away. He didn't want trouble of any sort.

  He and Harry helped push the heavily loaded carts. Xris paired himself up with Jamil, the only ex-military man among them. They exited the loading dock, entered the space station interior.

  Wide double doors led into a faintly lit access corridor. Pipes and cables were visible overhead, providing heat, power, oxygen, and other services. The walls were painted white. Emergency oxygen stations and fire-fighting equipment were mounted in compartments in the wall every twenty meters. The team moved along in single file behind the Marine.

  They passed two more sets of double doors, marked by signs in Standard Military. The first read SS-SIGINT 2--2 and the other HS-SIGINT.

  Xris, mentally going over the layout of the space station, tried to get a fix on their location. "What does that mean?" he asked Jamil, not bothering to lower his voice. With the rattle of the equipment and the whoosh of air from the cart, the cyborg wasn't worried about being overheard.

  "Siglnt stands for 'Signal Intelligence,'" Jamil returned. "I don't know what the other letters mean."

  "Let's hope it isn't important."

  The access corridor opened into a large, brightly lit work area. Overhead cranes were built into tracks in the ceiling. Huge metal-paneled doors lined the walls. Yellow and black floor markings were covered by puddles of greenish motor oil.

  "Please wait here, sir," the Marine instructed. 'Tll inform Commander Drake that you've arrived." The Marine left.

  "This is Engineering," said Jamil.

  Xris marked it on his mental map.

  Moments later, pistons hissing, the metal doors along the right side began to open. Looking through them, Xris spotted some of the most important units in the space station-water pumps. Water was a highly valuable resource in space, second only to air. The air exchangers were located here. too, along with the myriad other machines all designed tO keep the living inside the space station alive.

  The Marine returned, accompanied by a short, stocky, muscular man wearing regulation coverails with commander's tabs on the collar. He smiled broadly, shook hands all around.

  "Greetings, gentlemen. I'm Bradley Drake, chief plant engineeL"

  "Aaron Schwartz. We're here to perform the routine maintenance on the exterminator drones and to restock their chemical supply."

  "Sure, same as usual," said the commander. "You guys are new here. Do you know where to find everything?"

  "Actually, no. The regular team was stranded on Clinius, no way to brief us. If you could show us where the 'bot control station is located and, uh, this man here" he indicated Harry--"needs to be escorted to the central security station."

  Xris could almost see everyone in the team tense up. This was the crucial part of the entire operation. If the commander balked, they were in trouble.

  As it was, Drake did appear startled by the request. "Why do you need a man at security? That's not normally part of your routine."

  Xris nodded. "We're installing
a new software maintenance release in the exterminator 'bots. If they stray during testing, they're liable to set off your alarms, and we don't want some trigger-happy Marine to vaporize them. I don't suppose the Navy'd be thrilled about having to pay for replacements."

  "Right, right. I see your point. The private"--Drake indicated the young Marine--"will take your man to security. I'll let them know he's coming. You'll find the bug-'bot station over there, by Air Exchanger Three next to the bulkhead. Let me know if you have any problems."

  The commander returned to his office. Harry, looking nervous, grabbed a tool box and left with the Marine.

  Xris motioned for the rest of the team to follow him, headed for the service area--a computer station located near a major air exchange unit. Three large air conduits, over a meter in diameter, entered the exchanger. From there, the conduits branched out, stopped at various access ports throughout the station.

  "You're in charge, Quong," Xris told him.

  The Doc moved over to the computer, began tapping on the keyboard. After studying it a moment, he turned to the others.

  "According to Xris's information, there are twenty-eight exterminator robots roaming around the facility, inside the air ducts. We bring them down through that conduit there to check their programming, update it if necessary, and replenish their chemical supply. Jamil, you and Tycho remove the air duct access ports. I've called 'bots one, two, and three down for servicing."

  A large metal conduit, attached to the air ducts, canted downward at a gentle slope, ending at deck level. A large metal plug sealed it shut. Tycho and Jamil removed the plug just as the first 'bot rumbled down the conduit and exited onto the floor. The 'bot was cylindrical in shape, moved on crawler tracks, and didn't look particularly intelligent.

  Jamil hooked up the hose from the chemical tank on his cart to 'bot one. As he refilled its tanks, Tycho ran the selfcheck program built into the unit. That was routine. What wasn't routine was the placement of a microchip specially designed by Quong. Minuscule in size and perfectly harmless--unless activated--one microchip inside the 'bot's complex inner workings would never be noticed.

  By the time the team had finished with the first 'bot, numbers two and three had arrived. Quong ordered robot one back into the duct. Tycho placed identical microchips in 'bots two and three.

  'Bot five had just been serviced when Xris heard a beep in his ear. He looked around. Station personnel were moving through the work area, going about their business. No one was paying any attention to the exterminators. Xris activated the comm. "Xris here."

  "Harry here. I'm in the can just outside security. I'm surrounded! Two guys are working the computers and monitors and that damned Marine's still with me. Nobody told him he could go home, so he's sticking to my ass like one of those fleas I was reading about. I'm surprised he's not inside the stall with me. What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

  Raoul, where are you when I need you? Xris asked silently. The charming Loti would have sent the Marine out for coffee and a sandwich, kept the security officers sniggering at the latest Adonian ribald jokes, while artlessly leading the conversation around to FCWing. ("I heard the juiciest rumor about one of our employees and one of yours. Doing something more than killing bugs, if you know what I mean! He worked in ... let me see ... somewhere called FCWing. Yes! In the women's restroom, no less!")

  And while the security officers were thinking about FCWing, the Little One would have sucked their minds dry.

  "Harry, we've been through this." Xris remembered to be patient. "Tell the security personnel you've got to keep an eye on these 'bors and in order to do that you have to know where the conduits run. Have security pull up floor plans, and study them. When you come to one called CCA-2 FCWing, let me know where it's located."

  "Okay, right." Harry sounded glum. "I'll give it a try. Out."

  Xris shook his head, turned to Quong. "This may take a while, Doc. Once you've serviced 'bot fifteen, slow down a bit. Buy us some time."

  Quong passed the word to Tycho and Jamil, who began to ease up. They had just serviced 'bot twenty, with no word from Harry, when Quong tapped Xris on the shoulder.

  "Here comes trouble," the Doc warned under his breath.

  Commander Drake had emerged from his office. "You guys are running a little behind schedule."

  "It's this new software upgrade," Xris explained. "It's taking a while to install--" His commlink buzzed in his ear.

  "Xris!" It was Harry.

  "Maybe you should explain this to me." Drake was talking at the same time.

  Xris looked blank. "Did you say something, Commander?"

  Drake raised his voice. "I was saying maybe--"

  "Sorry, Commander!" Xris shook his head violently, tapped on his ear. "My heating unit appears to have shorted out. If you don't mind, I'll go fix it. Aleko here will answer your questions." Tycho, taking the hint, pounced on Drake, began talking. "We're updating the maneuver routines in the robots, Commander. The plan is to allow one 'bot to go to the aid of another 'hot if it finds a large breeding nest. We figure that this will increase the effectiveness of the program immensely. Have the fleas been bad lately?"

  Xris moved off, keeping a close watch on Drake. Fortunately, the commander was more interested in fleas than in malfunctioning cyborgs.

  "Xris here. What's up, Harry?" Xris asked in a low voice, cupping his hand over his ear.

  "I think I've got a fix on that location for you. Lima Three Niner, Deck Eight. If FCWing's not there, it's real close."

  "Right. Harry, pay close attention to the monitors. There's going to be some activity up there, so be prepared to handle it. I can't talk anymore. We've got company." Xris cut off Harry's protest.

  "We've been having a problem with the fleas down here," Drake was saying to Tycho. "The filters catch them in the air exchangers and they're breeding--"

  Xris returned. "If you don't mind, Commander, we are running behind schedule and my men need to get back to work."

  "You want me out of the way." Drake smiled broadly. "I understand. Stop by my office before you leave, if you have time. The other crew usually does. I've got hot tea, fresh doughnuts."

  "Sure thing, sir. Thanks," Xris said, and watched the commander walk off.

  A nice guy. Xris hoped like hell nothing would go wrong. He turned to Quong, who was scratching at his neck.

  "With all this talk of fleas, I'm starting to itch."

  "It's all in your head. Listen, I've had word from Harry.

  Lima Three Niner, Deck Eight."

  Quong ran a check. "That area's serviced by 'bot eleven---one Tycho's already 'fixed.'"

  Xris breathed a sigh. That would save time. His luck was holding.

  "I'll start the malfunction cycle." Quong pulled out a handheld minicomputer from the pocket of his coverails.

  He tapped in several commands, extended the small antenna, and transmitted instructions. Several seconds later, the microchip that Tycho had installed into the 'bot's control circuitry responded.

  "All systems go," the Doe announced.

  A minute passed. Xris glanced at Quong.

  "Don't worry, Xris. It'll work."

  Tycho and Jamil continued to perform their chores on the 'bots, but both kept an eye on Quong's computer.

  Another minute passed. Xris looked back at Drake's ofrice. The door remained shut. Another minute ...

  Commander Drake burst out of his office, waving his arms to attract their attention. He began shouting at them when he was still about twenty meters distant.

  Xris ceased work, loped toward him. "What is it, Commander? What's all the excitement?"

  "Security called. One of your 'bots is malfunctioning! It's dumped its chemicals. The stuff's dripping down out of the ceiling into the offices! Is it poisonous? Should I evacuate personnel?"

  "No, sir!" Xris said hastily, not having foreseen such a drastic response. "No need to evacuate anyone. The chemicals are perfectly safe. Unless you're a flea," he added w
ith a grin that he hoped didn't look as corpselike as it felt.

  Drake wasn't amused. "Well, toxic or not, that gunk's liable to get into the computer systems. You better take care of it."

  "Yes, sir. We can probably fix it from the station."

  Xris moved back to Quong. Drake tromped along behind, breathing down his neck. "One of the 'bots is malfunctioning. See if you can bring it up on the screen."

  "Sure thing. Where is the 'bot located, Commander?"

  "FCWing."

  "And where's that, sir?"

  "Lima Three Niner, Deck Eight. It should be in the ducting off junction three-eighty-one."

  Quong brought up the control routine for 'bot eleven. He tapped keys, gloomily shook his head.

  "It doesn't seem to be responding. I can't gain control from here." He glanced at Xris. "You'll have to go fix it by hand." Drake frowned. "That's a secure area. I'm not sure--" "Excuse me, Commander," Jamil intervened. "But if this 'bot is dumping its chemicals, it's probably shorting out. Which means it could lose its programming and take off on its own. If it starts wandering around the air ducts, we might never find it. It might crash into something vital."

  Drake looked worried. "Right, I see your point." He thought a moment. "Why don't you give me instructions on how to fix it. I'll go--"

  "It takes special tools. I'll have to train you--"

  "There's no time for that, Schwartz," Quong yelled. "The 'bot's starting to veer off course!"

  Drake looked frazzled. He could handle an enemy bombardment. A runaway bug-'bot was something new in his experience. "Hell! Wait a minute. I'll get someone to escort you."

  The commander bellowed. Everyone in the area halted, froze. The commander bellowed again, this time added a name.

  A short man in Navy coverails jerked his head up, waved in response, came trotting over.

  "Technician Collins." Drake performed hurried introductions. "Schwartz here's got a malfunctioning 'bot. Take him up to FCWing. Help out if he needs it."

  "Yes, sir. Schwartz, if you'll follow me ..."

  Xris had to restrain himself from grinning widely at the others. Looking serious and stern, he grabbed a tool box from the cart, followed the technician.