The Key (13 page)

She looked around, finally noting they’d moved three couches into the room.

“Oh, almost forgot. Look what we found,” Carey said.

She followed the two men out of the room and around the corner to the left. A door slid back on a balcony. Cold air rushed in as they stepped out. From this vantage, she could see two moons hanging together in the sky, with a third some distance to the left.

In the silence, she heard the muted sound of waves hitting a shore she couldn’t see. The moons didn’t seem to give much light, though Sara could see vague outlines of nearby buildings, of course, she wasn’t sure if it was because she knew they were there or she could really see them.

Carey leaned on the balustrade. “This is a major find, Donovan. This is the kind of stuff we came to find. We have to stay and figure this place out.”

Sara felt…something…relax inside her and she knew that her ship would start in the morning.

“We’d better head in. I’ll take the first watch. Then Fyn, Donovan last. Four hours each?”

Sara didn’t think she’d sleep, but to her surprise, she drifted off, coming awake with a jerk some hours later just in time to relieve Fyn. He gave her a hug, like they were a couple or something, and retired to his couch, leaving Sara to pace quietly back and forth in front of the consoles. Her headache was completely gone and she found she was…curious.

She sat down in front of one of the weapons consoles and tapped the screen. It lit with a dull glow, as if it knew it was night, as if it knew she didn’t want to wake anyone. After a long hesitation, she slowly touched the screen again, spreading her hand over the surface.

Immediately the glowing beads formed and flowed into her palm, but it seemed they moved a little slower. Sara braced for it, but this time all she felt was a dull ache, as if the beads had adjusted themselves to accommodate her.

It didn’t surprise her that she could connect to what was clearly some kind of computer. What did surprise her, she couldn’t process the information it seemed to be sending her, though perhaps that would come with time.

She looked at the two men. No movement from either.

What kind of weapons does this console control?
She thought the question, curious if the AI would hear it.

There was a long pause, so long she thought it couldn’t, then the symbols on the screen changed, reforming into something else, something with symbols and graphics.

It looked kind of like a missile, though it seemed to have more fins then theirs had. And it was much thicker, if she was seeing it right. The graphics did show her the weapon from various angles.

How does it work?

Another long pause, then the screen changed again, this time into a video. The missile launched, heading toward its target, and then it split into multiples, but still with a central core. The smaller ones took out smaller ships, while the main one took out the mother ship.

“Cool.”

You wouldn’t use it on the Doolittle, would you?

The screen went black, and then slowly a variety of outlines formed. The enemies back then? One of them sort of looked like the embryo of a Dusan ship.

These were designed to fight the Dusan?

The screen went black again. Didn’t seem to be a yes or a no.

How come you can understand me, but I can’t understand you?

The screen didn’t do anything.

Apparently she couldn’t understand the answer either.

The Dusan have been looking for this place, haven’t they?

Three symbols. Was that a yes?

Is this place the key they want to find?

Two symbols this time.

She’d take that to be a no. It’s not like the console was arguing with her about her translations.

She didn’t know what to ask next, or maybe that was how to ask.

Did the Garradians live here?

That was yes.

So this was the lost outpost.

She knew what she could ask, but she was afraid of the answer. She knew the voice in her memory that told her to be careful with the flute.

Her mom.

And then the moment for questions was lost. Carey stirred on his couch. Sara blinked and the screen shut down before he sat up.

“Everything all right?”

Before she could answer, the tracking screen suddenly flashed, then showed the Dusan vessel returning.

Carey activated his radio. “
Doolittle,
this is Carey. You got incoming.”

How would their ship fare against this ship?

As if to answer her question, the tracking map did a read out on both ships. Sara wished she could understand it. As they watched, it seemed like the Dusan ship turned itself inside out, it spewed so many fighter craft into space. She looked at the weapons console.

Can’t you help?

The answer seemed to be a firm yes. It lit up like a carnival ride. Symbols flashed across it. She looked at the tracking map and saw their position, saw four missiles begin to track toward the two ships.

“What just happened?” Carey asked.

Sara didn’t know how to answer that. Luckily he didn’t seem to need an answer.

Fyn got up, started to ask what was going on, then saw the map.

“Tell the
Doolittle
not to deploy yet.” What if the missiles couldn’t tell the good guys from the bad?

She heard Carey relay the message. She watched tensely as the four missiles approached the
Doolittle’s
position…and then went past it.

All three of them sighed in relief.

Then, just as it showed in the video, the missiles fragmented, the smaller parts breaking off to target the approaching attack ships. The pieces punched into the line of Dusan fighter craft, tiny flashes marking each kill. The four main missiles passed through the openings, on a heading for the main ship.

Flashes came from the Dusan ship and one of the missiles vanished from the map, but the other three plowed home and with a bright flash, the main ship disappeared.

The little pieces were still cleaning up the smaller ships, though Sara wondered if there’d be enough little pieces. There were a lot of fighters. It was like watching stars wink out as morning approached. Then the pieces were gone. Some Dusan ships remained.

“Home plate, launch the squadrons now!” Carey shouted.

Now they saw dots flow out of the dot that was the
Doolittle
. It was like watching a video game being played by someone else. The remaining ships didn’t stand a chance, not against their guys.

Sara ached to be there with them. This is what she’d trained for. And the more she knew about the Dusan, the more she wanted to kick their trash.

Only when the battle was over, did the Colonel contact them.

“What the hell was that all about?”

It was a bit disconcerting that Fyn and Carey looked at her for answers. Sara shrugged, trying to look as clueless as they did. Actually she was almost as clueless as they were.

“We’re wondering if there is an AI here, sir,” Carey said.

“AI?” There was a pause and she could hear a muffled voice. Then he added, “Artificial intelligence?”

Now Sara spoke. “It would explain the…takeover of my ship yesterday, sir. It’s clearly got very sophisticated tracking capability. Luckily it seems to like us better than the Dusan. It acted on its own to protect the
Doolittle
.” Okay, after she asked for help, but no reason to mention that.

Carey cut in again. “Sir, this place is what we came to find. It’s amazing. We should land our research team.”

“Yeah,” the colonel sounded dry, “that’s what they are telling me, too. Once it’s light, we’ll deploy them and some Marines.” There was a pause. “And tell Captain Donovan to get her ass back up here as soon as it’s light. No more free-lancing or I will throw her in the brig.” There was another pause, then he added, “I want you and Fyn to supervise the landing. We may deploy your squadron there, but for now, you can provide air cover and logistics support until our people can figure out if the defenses are still good or nearly tapped out.”

“Yes, sir.” Carey looked pleased.

Sara looked at Fyn. He picked the wrong day to be the Major’s wing man. Or the right day. Depended on your perspective.

Five

       They’d been in the city for three days, three very long days, as far as Fyn was concerned. It should have been fascinating, but the geeks didn’t want them messing with anything, so it was actually boring until Carey asked him to come with him to take a look at the Dusan ship.

They’d moved it down to the city, just in case it was rigged to explode, though the EOD people didn’t think it would.

Not that they knew how to open it.

He and Carey walked around it, studying it from all angles. It was not as sleekly crafted as a
Dauntless
, in fact it was ugly to look at. Like the Dusan themselves, it looked like a shrine to brute force, rather than technical skill.

“Any ideas how we can crack this bad boy?”

Fyn stopped by the rear hatch. There were no panels, no buttons of any kind, just a small slot—

Suddenly he remembered Sara holding the small disc, turning it in her fingers as if she found it interesting.

“We took some discs off the dead Dusan,” Fyn said. “What if they go in this slot?”

Carey touched it. “You might have something there. We’ve got their stuff down here, too. The geeks are playing with it.”

“Did they…find transmitters during the autopsies?” Fyn almost hoped Carey wouldn’t tell him. The more he learned, the more it weighed on him. This wasn’t just about the Ojemba. It was about his personal vow to fight the Dusan to his death or theirs. He’d given many seasons of his life to the battle, but it didn’t seem enough against the loss of his mate, his world.

“What? Oh yeah, they did. They were all dead though, like the guys they took ‘em from. Geeks are trying to try to find a way to power it back up.”

That didn’t seem like a good idea.

“But first they want to make sure it doesn’t broadcast.”

That was good.

Carey got on the radio and explained that they needed the discs.

“Doc says five of the guys had cut vocal chords. Kind of nasty. Means their only way of communicating was through the transmitters. They figure the guy with chords was the commander of the detail.”

Fyn remembered the odd feeling he’d had when he looked at the dead Dusan. Something bothered him, but he couldn’t figure out what.

In a short while, a jarhead showed up with the discs. They all looked at them. They all seemed to be the same.

Carey laid them out on a table and picked them up one at a time. Finally he sighed.

“Only thing to do is try one, I guess. If these were ours, they’d all work.” He frowned a bit. “Maybe you two should stand back. Just in case.”

Fyn didn’t move. Neither did the jarhead.

Carey grabbed one. “Okay, let’s see what happens.” He walked over to the ship and shoved the disc in the slot.

Nothing happened.

Fyn gathered up the other five and took them to him. Number four was the right one.

“So, only one guy can get into the ship? That’s cold.”

“That’s Dusan,” Fyn said, grimly.

The inside was as sterile as the outside. Carey looked around him.

“I’d sure hate to spend much time in one of these bad boys.” He sat down but got up rather quickly. “Damn. That’s brutal.”

Fyn tried a seat. It wasn’t just that it was uncomfortable. It was almost as if it had been designed to be a punishment. He didn’t linger in it either. One of the seats looked different, though. He tried it. “This one is comfortable.”

“Now why do I get the feeling it belonged to the guy who could talk?” Carey’s face looked grim.

There was another slot on the drive console. The same disc made the engine come online. Carey pulled it out again and tucked the disc in his pocket.

“Well, now we know it works. We can let the geeks do their thing.” He headed out, like he couldn’t stand being in it anymore.

Fyn followed him out, also relieved to be clear of it. “Now what?”

Carey grinned. “Lunch?”

* * * *

From taping into the computer, Sara knew the geek squad was settled into the city and had begun to explore, though it was slow going. Some buildings opened without problems. Others resisted all efforts to get in. So many questions and very few answers. They were assuming the outpost was Garradian and finding the language hard to crack. Sara could have told them more, but she wasn’t sure she should. She’d spent her life trying to blend in, not stand out. She’d buried her secrets very deep.

And there was the whole issue of becoming an alien autopsy herself.

At times the longing to return to the city was almost physical in its intensity. She missed Fyn, too, with a different kind of ache. She had no contact with him or Carey, other than her sneak peaks into the ship’s computers. The report about the Dusan ship was interesting…and disturbing. The autopsy reports were beyond disturbing. What kind of people were these Dusan to maim and torture their own men?

Much had also changed aboard the
Doolittle.
Dancing with Fyn and Briggs had changed things.

She was no longer invisible.

The women saw her now, their eyes bright with curiosity. She was invited to join their poker night and had to work at not slaying them all. Maybe it was all those years spent watching, but she knew exactly who was bluffing and who wasn’t. And she seemed to be able to keep track of the cards.

Once a freak, always a freak, apparently.

She tried to hit the cafeteria at times when it was less busy, because of the sudden attention, but it wasn’t always possible. It had been a long week and she’d just gone off duty. As she turned with her tray to find an empty table, she heard someone say her name. She found her new poker group pointing to an empty chair at their table.

She smiled at them and took the seat. Most of them were equipment technicians, but one was a pilot in another squadron. Another worked in the infirmary.

Sara opened her napkin.