Wasteland of flint

data port and talk to them that way.'

One of the other channels carried a muffled voice, and Fitzsimmons realized Anderssen- tzin's voice channel had been muted from the command deck.

'Aye, aye, sir.' Fitzsimmons signaled to Deckard, then took two long, bounding steps to reach the shuttle's airlock. The corporal walked sideways down the hull to meet him, spooling up the monofil as he went. 'Time for first contact, Corporal. Undog the comm port cover, would you?'

'We don't really know what happened. They just fell over, you know, and we couldn't raise anyone on the ship- to-ship comm channel.'

Gretchen suppressed a sigh, staring at two grimy faces framed by the shuttle's v-cam. On her left, security team crewman Carlos Fuentes' bearded visage stared out at her with sick desperation. Beside him, nose screwed up in a grimace, her entire body turned away from Fuentes, crewwoman Delores Flores seemed equally despondent.

'Tell me what you saw,' Gretchen said, again. 'From the beginning.'

'Well, ah…' Carlos groped for the proper words.

'Shut up, idiot,' Delores said, pushing him out of the field of view. 'I'll tell you, ma'am. We've been having problems with the shuttle engines since we arrived,' the crewwoman began. 'After five or six trips down to the base camp, they started showing warning lights in the afterburner and air intake ducts. Finally, shuttle two refused to power up groundside – claimed the engine would overheat. So we took number one down to base camp and pulled the entire engine assembly out of number two.' She jerked her thumb over one shoulder. Something large and bulky, wrapped with shockfoam and cables, filled most of the cargo space on the shuttle.

'We brought up Doc Clarkson at the same time – he was in a big hurry! And Doctor McCue – she wasn't in such a hurry. They went upstairs, but we were working down here to prep this bastard to unload.'

'Did anyone else ride up with you? Did you close the airlock after Clarkson and McCue left the shuttle?' Gretchen was chewing on the stub end of a pointing stylus.

'Always!' Delores nodded sharply, waving her hand off to one side. 'Standard procedure. The bay doors are airtight, but the boat bay is considered an unsecured environment. You lock in and out of the bay, or the shuttles when they're aboard. And it was just those two. No one else wanted to ride up with them, not when they were in such a mood!'

'When did you notice something was wrong on the ship?'

'An alarm went off shipside,' Delores said. 'We heard the horn go off and I ran into the cockpit. Carlos -' The crewwoman's lip twisted slightly '- called the bridge. We heard some noise, some shouting for maybe thirty seconds, and then nothing.' She pointed off toward the front of the shuttle. 'Then the lock cycled and engineer PГўtecatl and two others ran into the bay. I called on the comm, and she said something was attacking the ship. Then she made sort of a choking noise, we saw a hot glow inside their helmets – and all three of them fell over.'

'And then?' Gretchen frowned at the ragged plastic end of her stylus.

'They didn't move. We couldn't get anyone on the ship-to-ship channel.' Delores shrugged. 'The bay doors were closed, and we couldn't get them open by remote. We didn't dare go outside, not with three people dead in suits right in front of our eyes. With the shuttle parked inside the bay, we couldn't even raise groundside on the comm. So we've been waiting for weeks, hoping something would happen. Something good, I mean.' She ventured a smile. 'Can we get out of this tin can now and get a shower?'

'You can have a bath when we get you out,' Gretchen promised with a smile. 'But right now we have to figure out how to get you out of there safely. I'll call you back in a moment.'

She shut down the channel, then turned to face Hadeishi. The captain and Lieutenant Kosho were talking, heads close together, at the exec's display board. 'Captain Hadeishi?'

'Yes, Anderssen-tzin?' He seemed tense, and she knew he was bracing for another argument about the quarantine.

'I would like to transfer my crew and supplies – and the loan of a fuel cell, if you will – to the Palenque.'

For a moment, Hadeishi said nothing, staring at her with narrowed eyes. At his side, the lieutenant allowed herself the ghost of a smile. Then the captain visibly shook himself and nodded.

'You're sure of your analysis? Sure enough to risk yourself and your team?'

'Yes,' Gretchen said in a firm voice. Oh lord, I hope so! But we can't just sit here for weeks. Every day burns away at our nonexistent budget and our tiny little bonuses.

'Very well.' Hadeishi glanced at his exec, who had stepped down to her own board, attention already focused on her lading schedules, thin rose-colored lips moving silently. 'Kosho-sana, we will leave Sergeant Fitzsimmons and Corporal Deckard aboard as a, ah, loan to Anderssen-tzin and her group. For the moment. After the quarantine period has passed, we will want them back.' The captain raised an eyebrow at Gretchen, who smiled in relief.

'Thank you,' she said, making a heartfelt bow.

'Please don't damage my crewmen,' Hadeishi responded on his private channel. 'Good luck.'

'There is one more thing…' Gretchen felt her stomach clench, knowing she was probably overstepping the bounds of hospitality. 'If you could loan us an engineer's mate, I think we could get the power plant on the Palenque working again.'

Hadeishi frowned. Gretchen kept her face impassive. The captain looked sideways, listening. He frowned again and said something into his throat mike. While Anderssen watched, the captain argued momentarily with someone, then gave up.

'Sho-sa Isoroku will be joining you on the Palenque,' Hadeishi said in a tight voice.

Gretchen must have shown some of her astonishment openly. 'I see.'

'He,' Hadeishi continued in a colorless tone, 'wishes to see the damage caused by this weapon for himself. I believe he desires to submit a technical paper to the Fleet Engineering College on Mars. You should get ready to move your equipment.'

Gretchen nodded again, in thanks, then began gathering up the v-pads, writing styluses and other bric-a-brac which had accumulated around the secondary weapons station. Magdalena was still hunched over her board, watching the feeds from the various suit cameras.

'I'll see you downstairs,' Gretchen said, thumping the Hesht on one furry shoulder.

'Ya-ha,' Maggie answered absently. 'Be there in a bit.'

The main lock of the Palenque cycled and Gretchen stepped through into a dark, echoing passage. A string of fading glowbeans cast the main access corridor in twilight, each shining dot throwing a circle of solemn blue-green light. She looked down at the enviro readouts on her arm – everything shone a friendly green – and she stepped aside to let Lieutenant Isoroku drag the battery pack into the ship. Magdalena followed, swimming through the opening with a flotilla of duffels, gearboxes and tools floating around her.

'You going to the command deck?' Gretchen lifted her chin in question. The Hesht shook her head.

'No, down to Engineering first. If we can get the hatch to the control compartment open we'll restart the ship's main comp before we try to bring up the reactor core. What about you?'

'I'm going to wander around,' Gretchen said, looking at the readouts on her arm again. 'The lab ring, I think. Keep channel four open.' She looked over to Isoroku. 'Lieutenant, could you use someone familiar with the ship systems?'

'Hai…' he answered dubiously.

Gretchen clicked her teeth, changing comm channel. 'Sergeant Fitzsimmons, could you tell Miss Flores to suit up and go to Engineering? Lieutenant Isoroku will be waiting for her.' She paused, listening. 'I don't believe the ship is infected anymore, Sergeant. You and Corporal Deckard are proof of that, at least in my eyes. We would all be dead by now if the weapon remained active on-board.'

There was an affirmative grunt on the channel and Gretchen smiled at the lieutenant.

'Crewwoman Flores will be along presently. Good luck – I'd love to see some light and heat in here.'

Gretchen followed the battery pack – guided by Isoroku with a clever little hand-held gas-jet unit – down two main decks, then swung out of the access shaft to let her boots adhere to the doorframe of a large, doublewide