Jinx on a Terran Inheritance (5 page)

"Remember the hunt?" Alacrity said. "The staff had hunting parties spread out just about everywhere on Epiphany except here, on this continent. I noticed that on the staff maps the other morning when we set out from Frostpile."

"A Precursor site … " Floyt mulled that, even as the
Scimitar
started spiraling down for a close look.

Certainly there were no visible aboveground installations to warrant alarm sensors.

Or,
Floyt thought,
Alacrity's guess might just be a product of his preoccupation with the Precursors. He
always keeps his own counsel about that.
Some contended that there'd never been any such thing as Precursors; Floyt, like all Terrans, gave the matter as little thought as possible. "Well, it might be," he conceded, only to make Alacrity feel better.

"Except that Precursors almost never built anything on or under planetary surfaces." Alacrity
tched.

Scimitar
made another approach, preparing to land some recon troops. Reinforcements were due within minutes.

"For all we know, this might've been some kind of false alarm."

"Precursor site, Ho." Alacrity shook his head slowly. "And we know it because we've already seen an artifact from it."

"An arti—What artifact? Are you all right, Alacrity? What are you—
God in the Void
!"

Alacrity yelled aloud too, and heard other cries, and howls from the Severeemish.
Scimitar
vanished in a hellish explosion, lighting the valley walls and the
Blue Pearl's
interior with an unbearable white glare.

CHAPTER 3—ZAGGING IN THE ZIGGURAT

The
Pearl's
attack alarms were much more shrill and unnerving than her alerts. The hull darkened instantly against the glare, sparing those inboard it blindness. There was a confusion of half-begun shrieks, bellows, and exclamations.

The ship pealed and skirled as the roiling globe of the explosion ballooned. There was a subtle change as the shuttle's artificial gravity stood in for the real thing, anticipating maneuver forces.

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The
Pearl
began to descend slowly, indecisively. She'd assumed position well out of what her Celestial captain estimated to be effective light-weapons range, but
Scimitar's
vaporization proved that someone had misread the situation entirely.

The momentary debate hung almost tangibly in the air: withdraw or attack?

Alacrity was hoping Redlock wasn't the kind to charge hellbent into battle hungry for revenge. There was the well-being of the passengers, Yumi and the others, to consider, even if the health of a rootless breakabout and a Terran functionary didn't exert any gees.

A moment later there wasn't any point wondering about Redlock's caution. Fireballs arrowed up at them, leaving blazing trails behind.

"Mis—" Seven Wars started to yell.

There were giant detonations and the
Blue Pearl
attempted to turn turvey.

—
siles,
Floyt finished to himself automatically. He fully expected to be immolated, his particles swept along by the irresistible forcewall of an explosion. He should've known that Governor Redlock wasn't the type to travel in a fragile, defenseless gaud.

Alacrity wouldn't've been terribly flabbergasted to be demoted from rational being to elementary particles either. But he was surprised when, concussed by near misses, the shuttle's artificial gravity was knocked out. He wanted to say,
I really prefer ersatz,
as the actual item sent him windmilling through the air. All he got out was "Shhh—"

All the things that people, however careful, had forgotten, physics remembered, and didn't miss a trick.

Though plants had been anchored in their bunkertike planters, branches and fronds whipped, some breaking loose. The air was a whirlwind of leaves, petals, flying soil that had sifted through retention nets, fragments of bark, and projectile fruit. Loose glasses and a bottle overlooked by Charivari shattered into splinters.

The furniture had remained secure, but cushions went sailing. Weapons, ammunition, and various pieces of clothing and equipment flew. Sortie-Wolf nearly lost an eye to a stylus from an inner pocket of his own uniform tunic, which he'd set aside.

The passengers themselves set up an ululation of concerted wails, roars, and howls as they tried to protect themselves even while they whirled and fell, tumbling.

Alacrity and Floyt slammed against the convex of the hull. Redlock, seizing a well-mounted sculpture, saved both himself and Dorraine. One of the Severeemish bodyguards tore through a section of railing.

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The porcelain funeral urn containing the remains of First Councillor Inst remained firmly in place, but a hurtling rocket magazine hit it squarely, bursting it apart. Gray-white ashes were scattered across the passenger space.

The
Pearl
swung back, righting herself. Alacrity and Floyt slid down the curve of the hull to land in a heap on the deck, stunned. The shuttle was shaking and bucking; they did their best to cling to the deck carpeting.

The ship began to stabilize. Alacrity wondered where
King's Ransom
and the other aircutters were, then realized that very little time had passed.

"There! Open fire!" Redlock yelled into his proteus. He was standing in the middle of the main lounge area, the Severeemish and others getting to their feet all around him.

Shaking the pretty lights and restful fog out of their heads, Floyt and Alacrity saw what he was pointing at. Down where the
Scimitar
had been circling, a dark shape was rising with gathering speed. It was larger than the
Blue Pearl,
a cluster of bulbous, pendulous shapes, spiny with commo and detector vibrissae and armament. In the fleeting glimpse they got of it, they saw the intruder ship changing color, beginning to match Epiphany's sky. Alacrity registered numbly that it must be some new stealth system he'd never heard of before. The stealth ship fired another flight of missiles.

The
Blue Pearl's
defenses had barely saved her from the first, unexpected salvo, with a flurry of jamming and counter-measures aimed at the missiles' guidance systems. Those systems had been analyzed; the shuttle merely rose a bit and the twin fireballs streaked red annihilation beneath her. They failed to detonate.

Redlock's ship opened up with an answering volley. A long, straight bridge of blinding yellow-white light connected the intruder and the
Pearl's
underside for a moment. If the intruder had shields, they failed; part of her upper hull disappeared.

A doomsday crack shook the sky, air rushing into the vacuum created by the cannon bolt. The stealth vessel jolted and wobbled, then, trailing thick blue smoke and windblown flames, began an emergency descent that threatened to become a crash.

The
Pearl
followed her kill down. For the first time Floyt noticed the long, silvery seam of a crack in the shuttle's crystal hull, curving from the level of the main lounge area almost to its apex. He also noticed how sluggish the shuttle was.

"What's he landing for?" Floyt sounded angry. "Why doesn't he wait for reinforcements?"

They became aware of Redlock's mustering the band members, a few other Celestials, and the file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...aley%20-%20Jinx%20on%20a%20Terran%20Inheritance.htm (24 of 320)19-2-2006 17:12:28

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Severeemish, including the giant who'd taken out the span of railing and now seemed none the worse for it. Dorraine was standing by the remains of her father's funeral urn, silently studying a shard she'd picked up from the deck.

"I don't want them back in possession of that site," the governor was saying, "not even for a few minutes."

Alacrity nudged Floyt. "See? What'd I tell you?" Floyt made a sour face.

"But, my lords Seven Wars and Sortie-Wolf," Redlock was saying, "I still think it might be best for you both to remain in the shuttle."

Under the heavy bone cliff of his brow, Seven Wars' dark, close-set eyes widened a bit. He answered in a hearty, good-natured tone.

"And miss a good fracas? Don't you think you owe your allies better treatment than that, Governor?" His son and their bodyguards made laughter resembling steam locomotives leaving a station. Redlock gave one of his rare, brief smiles.

Dorraine let go of the shard; it shattered to fragments on the dance floor. They all turned to her.

She went to join her husband, flinging back her resplendent robe and opening the heavy brooches, one the tragic mask and the other the comic, set at either shoulder. Letting the robe fall, she drew two silvery little guns from the folds and overlaps of her tightly cinched gown. They were modeled after antique derringers.

Redlock didn't object to her tacit insistence on coming along. Floyt had already seen the Queen of Agora use a handgun; she was good at it.

"I'll be going too," Alacrity called down, and started picking his way through branches, broken glass, fallen fruit and melting ice, dirt and debris. Redlock glanced at him but didn't answer, going back to his council of war.

Floyt caught Alacrity's shoulder. "This doesn't have anything to do with us, you know, or with what we came here for."

"Ho, I have to get a look inside that Precursor site."

"Is there any point in asking you
why,
goddammit? No, never mind; you'll only get vague on me again."

Floyt was also puzzled that the Earthservice conditioning didn't force Alacrity to hold back from becoming involved. Something deep within the breakabout must have overruled it on this subject.

"I'll explain it some time, Ho."

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"Don't put yourself out. Let's go."

They were both hobbling a bit. Alacrity showed only an instant's surprise that Floyt was coming along.

Floyt himself didn't understand it too clearly. Alacrity was still a major factor in accomplishing the mission, so that was a rationale to use against the conditioning. More to the point, Floyt, on his way to receive his bequest a few hours before, had realized that at some time in their misfortunes they'd become friends.

"We volunteer, sort of," Alacrity declared as they joined the others near the
Pearl's
main hatch.

"Wallflowers at the landing party," Floyt muttered. One of the bandswomen laughed.

The shuttle descended. Below, the stealth vessel had grounded lopsidedly, smoke and flame still rising from her. Seven Wars, studying the craft through a pair of outsize vision enhancers, said, "They're abandoning her. It's difficult to tell who they are through the smoke."

"What if they're faking?" Floyt wondered aloud.

"All their systems appear to be out," Redlock observed. "Still, I don't plan to board the intruder. I only wish to secure the site and post guard until the
King's Ransom
and the other aircutters show. I want to make sure they don't get back in, and that they didn't leave anyone inside."

He consulted his proteus. "That shouldn't be more than another few minutes."

The
Pearl
settled in some distance from the downed ship, with a ridge of ground between them for protection just in case. Alacrity and Floyt followed the others down the ramp, then the shuttle rose again, to stand off and make sure the intruder vessel remained where she was.

The landing party had been set down near a hill, half of which had been removed. A tunnel mouth, a precise equilateral triangle ten meters on a side, angled down into Epiphany. There were construction lights, apparently rigged by Weir research teams.

"Underground site," Alacrity murmured to Floyt. "I never heard of one before."

"Is that why they wanted to keep it to themselves? Weir's people, I mean?"

"Ho,
nobody
shares a Precursor find, not if they can help it."

"Citizen Floyt; Master Fitzhugh." Redlock spoke in the easy, listen-up voice of an experienced squad leader. "If you gentlemen will be good enough to mount guard here, the rest of us will proceed. Our proteuses aren't integrated and they'll be of no use once inside anyway. Recognition signals will be verbal and visual. Our challenge will be 'interlock,' and the countersign, 'downcheck.' Understood?"

"Got it," Alacrity replied. Floyt was bewildered.

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The others already had their instructions. The point man was a Celestial sergeant from the
Pearl's
crew, wearing vision enhancers set for night work. The officer who'd greeted Alacrity and Floyt when they'd first dashed inboard was next, with two more of Redlock's elite. After them would go the governor and Dorraine, along with the Severeemish. The four musicians would bring up the rear and do flanker duty as necessary.

"About two hundred and fifty meters in, there's a chamber at the end of this adit that our research team used as a base of operations," Redlock said. "We'll proceed to that, then check other areas if it seems appropriate. Everyone is to stay within sight of those ahead and behind them. Fitzhugh and Floyt, make sure to relay the passwords to my troops when they arrive."

The main party moved out. The Celestials were silent and wary, the Severeemish methodical and rigid, looking as if they were just waiting to open up on everything in sight. Everyone in the group seemed to be old hands at what they were doing, even Dorraine. The adit curved gently to the left.

"King's Ransom
ought to be here inside ten minutes or so." Alacrity frowned. "Now what d'you think's so important Redlock couldn't wait and send a whole friggin' armored column down there?"