Keystones: Tau Prime (9 page)

When they broke the five-hundred-meter barrier, red and orange lights flashed on the consoles in front of Deklan and Calm. Shortly thereafter an alarm klaxon sounded.

Calm laughed again, a controlled laugh that started deep in the chest and conveyed real mirth, not insanity. He continued to laugh even as he leveled off their flight path.

Deklan sagged back in his seat, only then aware of the sweat dripping through his hair. His heart was pounding like an angry drum.

“Ah, it gets the blood flowing, doesn’t it?” said Calm, either unaware of or indifferent to Deklan’s worries. “The first time I did that my instructor nearly had a heart attack.” Calm sounded as though he were reliving a fond memory.

“That’s so strange,” replied Deklan acidly. “Why would a descent like that bother anyone?”

“Quite.” Calm’s voice ignored Deklan’s sarcasm but still held traces of his earlier amusement. “This is the first human craft ever to visit this planet. We had to make a big entrance. No choice really.”

Deklan rubbed at his faceplate in lieu of rubbing his face. “If you say so. Where are you taking us down?”

“There’s a mesa”—Calm looked down at the console—“thirty seconds from here. I like the look of it. We’ll plant a flag there.”

The flag was a bit of a surprise to Deklan. That, he now realized, was what Calm had meant by a proper christening.

“A flag?” exclaimed Jonny, listening in on the conversation. “You’re claiming the planet. Yes! We’re going to be rich!”

“Do you always eavesdrop on your employers, Mr. Day?” asked Calm in his usual unflappable tone.

Jonny didn’t sound embarrassed. “Only when it comes to matters of mission security and safety.”

“I expect several glasses of Scotch on my return, Mr. Day. Very good Scotch.”

“Yes, sir.” Jonny still didn’t sound penitent.

“For Mr. Tobin as well.”

Tempest
finally descended to the ground in a careful spiral. This caution seemed out of place after the reckless atmospheric entry, but Deklan had no complaints.

The slower speed also permitted him to observe the landscape. The shape of the land was normal enough, but what grew there was amazing. Aqua pillars covered the landscape like hairs sprouting from the planet.

They varied in size and thickness. Some were short and squat, others tall and skinny, and a third variety was tall with a wide base that tapered toward a narrower peak. The highest pillars measured perhaps two hundred meters. The only constant was uniform color and lack of motion. Nothing grew among the pillars, and all was still.

Calm directed
Tempest
to a barren patch of land that rose above most of the pillars. He then reengaged the autopilot and let the shuttle settle gently onto the ground. “Ready to make history, Mr. Tobin?” he asked.

Deklan left the cockpit and waited near the hatch, half-turned with his fingers hovering over the controls. “Do you want the distinction of being first?” he asked.

“Yes, I would,” admitted Calm.

Deklan tapped the controls, and they both heard a hiss as
Tempest
let in the alien atmosphere. Calm grabbed a pole that had eluded Deklan’s notice when he’d boarded
Tempest
, and he then strode through the hatch.

The mesa they were on was over one hundred meters across, large enough to accommodate
Tempest
and a few more shuttles. Around them the tops of various blue pillars grew past the mesa’s summit. The rolling valley below was carpeted with them. This landscape of blue continued as far as the eye could see. It took Deklan’s breath away.

Calm crouched next to a small pillar that shared the mesa with them. His gloved hands ran over it and caressed the surface.

Deklan wandered in the opposite direction and was startled when a strong wind came close to bowling him over. A readout in the lower right of his faceplate showed a steep drop in temperature coupled with a rise in humidity. It was an odd environmental combination. There were no obvious causes for the sudden change, and he didn’t understand why the temperature around him had changed. Then it struck him.

Calm was now seven and a half meters away. Deklan had left the protective bubble.

Calm held the pole high above his head, perpendicular to the ground, and brought it down with great force. There was a crack as the pole crunched into the ground and rooted in place. A red, white, and blue flag hung in the still air, forlornly proclaiming ownership.

Deklan tapped the ground with his foot. It was hard, and he was impressed that Calm had so easily pierced it. He knelt down to press his hand against the ground. It didn’t give at all.

“Nice job with the flag,” said Deklan. “It’s a pity there isn’t a bit more wind. That would make for a more picturesque planting of the flag.”

“Yes, it would, wouldn’t it?” Calm didn’t move, but the limp flag unfurled before it snapped into the air, rigid as a board.

Deklan hadn’t known Calm could do that. Back inside Calm’s bubble he saw the readings on his faceplate return to a more human-friendly level. Deklan looked around the mesa again. “Uh, so what do we do now?”

“I thought we’d walk a few hundred kilometers to get a feel for the planet and then split up for a few weeks.”

Deklan looked aghast at Calm.

Calm pointed with his hand. “How do you feel about trekking south?”

“Uh. . . .” Deklan tried to think of something, anything, to say.

Calm favored Deklan with a small smile. “Relax. I’m joking. We’ll get back into
Tempest
and perform a visual search of the planet.”

Deklan let out a feeble laugh, more relieved than he could express. “That sounds great.”

Without a backward glance Calm walked through the open hatch. His next words were devoid of his characteristic cool. “We have a problem. Prepare emergency protocols!”

A blue pillar burst through the top of
Tempest
, hoisting the small craft into the air at her stern. Unlike the other aqua pillars, the new one was an electric blue with writhing lines of light under its surface. The pillar extended six meters below
Tempest
into the ground.

Jonny’s confused voice came over the com system. “What’s going on?”

Around Deklan more pillars erupted from the ground. He felt a vibration beneath him and dodged just in time to avoid the pillar. “Calm,” he boomed, “what’s the situation in there?”

“We have a new field growing in here! Several systems are offline. I’m checking the engines now.”

Suddenly the ground tilted under Deklan’s feet, and he slammed into a still growing pillar. It snapped, a blue liquid dripping from the severed ends.

Deklan saw another pillar sprouting near
Tempest
. He ran for it, grabbed it, and let it carry him up to the shuttle. The growth was so fast that it was like taking an elevator.

Deklan’s fingers tightened on the pillar as he got ready for his next move. “I’m jumping aboard,” he yelled. Deklan pushed off from the pillar and leaped into the air.

He slammed against the top of the craft. Because it was covered in the slippery blue liquid that dripped from the pillar, Deklan was unable to get a grip and careened over the edge. He fell near the open hatch and twisted in the air in a vain attempt to catch himself.

A hand from the opening caught his wrist. Deklan jerked to a stop, dangling from Calm’s hand.

Deklan looked into Calm’s ice-blue eyes. Whatever surprise or worry had bothered him before was gone. Calm lived up to his name. A strong grip pulled him up and in. “I think it’s time to leave.” Calm slammed a fist against the interior. “We’re going to do some serious damage to
Tempest
, though.”

Miniature blue pillars grew throughout the cabin like fine fuzz. They covered many surfaces and were expanding to more. Deklan felt them crunch underfoot. They were hard but brittle. A central pillar ran from the floor out through the ceiling. It was the same one that had lifted
Tempest
from the ground and started the disaster.

Calm ran to the cockpit, and called over his shoulder, “Try to break as much of it as you can.”

Deklan attacked the central pillar with a will, battering it with his hands. Its electric blue color had faded in the seconds since it had erupted from the ground. Unlike the other pillars carpeting the floor, it didn’t snap easily. Deklan tried to open the storage cupboards, looking for any tool that might help, but he was thwarted by little blue pillars, which had already sealed the cupboards shut.

A roar sounded from the starboard side of the ship. “We have only one engine left!” shouted Calm.

Tempest
rocked and groaned against the pillar.

“Break that pillar!”

Deklan slammed a shoulder against the pillar. Pain tore through him. He felt as though he’d just tackled an iron statue. He shook himself and gathered his strength for a second attempt. As he hit the pillar again, the pain was even worse. He dropped to the ground but noted that a crack had formed in the pillar. With gritted teeth he regained his feet and prepared for a third pass.

“Engine efficiency levels are dropping!”

Deklan charged the pillar and felt it break under his shoulder. Collapsing over part of the pillar that lay shattered on the floor, he shouted, “Go! Go! Go!”

The engine’s whine tripled in pitch as
Tempest
slid off the small section of pillar that still penetrated the floor.

Deklan curled up into a ball and screamed. Fire lashed his shoulder; each breath was a torment. It hurt far worse than when he’d broken his shoulder before. Glancing at the injury, he saw blue shards sticking through his suit and into him.

He went cold at the sight. Ice from his fear met fire from his pain.

Above him the severed section of the pillar swung and fell from the ceiling. Deklan rolled aside as it crashed into the space where he had just been.

He lay on his belly, struggling to focus through the waves of pain. He had to get to the cockpit. The cabin was compromised; it wasn’t going to be safe once they left the atmosphere. His suit also was compromised; he didn’t want to freeze again. His body was compromised; he didn’t want to die.

Fire. It burned, and Deklan moaned.

Ice. He shivered, cold sweat soaking his hair.

His breath came in pants. His mouth was dry, his tongue swollen. His face froze and boiled by turns.

“He’s waking,” said a voice. “We need the clamps!”

Deklan was in the medical bay. Bright white lights stabbed down at him like knives in his brain. He flinched and moved his shoulder, sending fresh shockwaves of agony down his side and over his chest.

He lay on the surgical table surrounded by robotic arms poised just above his body. Around him were Jamie and Calm, still in his EVA suit. Calm’s hands were locked onto Deklan’s left side, holding him in place as clamps slid out of the table and anchored him in place.

“Stay still, Deklan.” Jamie’s voice was low and commanding.

A trio of robotic arms above his wounded right shoulder cut through the material of his suit, exposing the blue fragments sticking out of him. New arms with different attachments appeared. One gripped the fragments, and another cut into him.

“Anesthetic,” Deklan tried to yell, but it came out as a parched croak.

Jamie shook her head. “We can’t. We don’t know what’s in you. Now stay still.”

Deklan swallowed his nausea and pain. “Hurry,” he urged.

The gripping arm pulled. It felt as though molten steel was moving in his shoulder. The fragment refused to budge and stuck in place. Minutes passed as the robotic arms cut into him before the fragment yielded.

Deklan’s eyes closed when he heard the plink of the fragment dropping into a collection pan. The pain was less but not gone. Deklan looked at his shoulder again. An army of smaller arms reached into the wound, each extracting a miniscule fragment and making him feel incrementally better.

The battle between fire and ice abated. With long exhalations Deklan’s breathing became more normal, and he relaxed. This was pain he could manage.

Jamie was staring at a screen that showed the blue fragments at an atomic level. They were silicon-based, a form of life that until now had been purely theoretical. Under magnification each fragment looked multifaceted and sharp. A simulation depicted the expected interaction between the compound and human tissue. The chemical interaction showed the tissue burning away.

“There are hundreds of thousands of these fragments inside you,” declared Jamie. “How is it that you are still alive?”

“I’m fine now,” said Deklan stoically.

“No. We need to flush your system.”

Deklan was afraid that she was going to say that. “Okay,” he replied. “Do it.”

Jamie sat him up, and the robotic arms cut the rest of his suit off.

Deklan kept his mouth shut and lay down, not trusting his voice. He knew what was coming. Hundreds of arms were going to penetrate his body and drain his blood, while hundreds more infused him with a fresh supply. It was a painful and drastic procedure, but also the most effective way to rid the body of unknown toxins.

New needle-like arms spread above Deklan and turned him into a living pincushion. A new type of fire beat against his senses.

The process went on and on. Jamie’s voice was in the background telling him how much longer it was going to be. The words washed over Deklan almost without meaning. Time didn’t mean much; he was in a world of all-over pain.

Suddenly it went away. One second Deklan was in torment; the next the arms were gone, and he sagged against the almost comfortable metal table.

At some point Calm had left the medical bay. Jamie looked worn from the stress and held out a blanket in her hands. “Here,” she said, “for your dignity.”

Deklan blushed, suddenly aware of his nudity. He reached out for the blanket and was punished by his shoulder. A few deep breaths later he extended his left hand and took the blanket to cover himself. “How long did it take?” he inquired.

“Hours. The fragments didn’t want to leave your body.”

It had felt longer to Deklan.