Night Train to Rigel

We finished the trench without further incident and headed back. “I wonder what they expected that to accomplish,” I commented as we resumed our attack on the ice.

“Obviously not to stop us,” Fayr muttered. “It can only have been to delay us while he prepares his submarines for defense of the coral.”

“It’s going to be ten-to-one odds down there, isn’t it?” I agreed soberly. “Not to mention whatever mischief the divers can cause. You have planned for that, I hope?”

“No fears,” Fayr assured me. I’d never heard that peculiar phrase from a Bellido before, but Fayr had apparently adopted it for his own. “The submarine has been equipped with sensor decoys and other countermeasures. I also expect the ongoing destruction of the coral to have a certain confusing effect on the defending walkers, as well.”

“But you don’t know for sure.”

“No,” he conceded. “To the best of my knowledge, an attack on the Modhri has never before been attempted, much less successfully.”

“Mm,” I murmured, gazing out in the direction of the now-stalled ground vehicles. “So after we drop the sub into the water, you’re planning to just leave?”

“Do not misunderstand,” Fayr said, his voice tight. “I do not wish to leave anyone behind. But we cannot assume that no messages were sent before we dealt with the resort’s transmitter. The Halkan warships at the Tube transfer station could be here in four hours, and it will take the submarine at least two and two-thirds to destroy the coral between here and the harvesting complex. If we wait the extra two-thirds hour for them to make the return trip, we could find ourselves trapped with little margin for error.”

“Okay, but what if we go to the harvesting complex and meet the sub there?” I suggested. “That would at least save us that last two-thirds hour.”

“And could end matters even more quickly,” Fayr countered. “Or had you forgotten the ground-based weapons at the complex?”

“Not at all,” I said. “It just seems to me there are a couple of points that may make it worth considering.” I gestured out at the horizon. “For one thing, I’m wondering how well those weapons will be manned, given how many of the residents are sitting out there in that convoy.”

“Possibly not as fully as usual,” Fayr conceded. “Certainly with his flyers destroyed he will have less capability against ground troops.” He eyed me curiously. “I find it interesting that you would care so much about two Belldic lives.”

“I don’t like wasting lives, human or otherwise,” I told him. “But I’m also thinking it might also be a good idea to take a good, hard look at the records they have in there.”

“What sorts of records?”

“All sorts,” I said. “I’m still wondering why the Modhri threw all the workers at us just now like cannon fodder, but didn’t do the same with the guests at the resort.”

“Those at the resort are the rich and powerful,” Fayr reminded me. “Perhaps the Modhri feared the repercussions that would follow such a high number of important deaths.”

“Yes, but why?” I persisted. “Isn’t this place right here his must-win stand?”

“It is his homeland and the center of his intellect and power,” Fayr agreed thoughtfully. “But as I said earlier, he has many outposts across the galaxy, and many, many walkers. Perhaps he still feels he can stop us here without risking his secret.”

“How secret can it be?” I pointed out. “Your government at least seems to know all about this. Don’t they?”

“Do they?” he said bitterly. “Like many others, my government has been enslaved. What is actually known of the Modhri, and what has been carefully suppressed, I cannot say.”

“But I thought—” I floundered.

“That we represent an official Belldic mission?” Fayr shook his head. “No. On this point, at least, Apos Mahf spoke the truth: My squad and I are renegades. We recognized that something was amiss and from various records were able to piece together the truth. But we have no official orders or sanction for what we do.”

His whiskers twitched. “In fact, any of us who survive will undoubtedly be brought before a military court upon our return.”

I grimaced. But it was not, I reflected, all that different from the reception I was likely to get when I got back to Earth. “I still want some answers,” I said. “And the harvesting complex is still the place to get them.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “You said there were two reasons you thought it would be worth the risk?”

I nodded. “You seemed concerned earlier about the idea of flying into a place guarded by antiair defenses. Right?”

“Correct.”

“But assuming you’re right about this whole setup being designed by the Modhri for his own benefit, where are those defenses likely to be centered? On the administration center, which holds the records we’re looking for? Or on the access to the harvesting areas, where the coral is?”

“Mmm,” he murmured. “Interesting.”

“Of course, once we’re down you’ll still have to get to the admin areas on foot,” I went on. “You’ll also have to neutralize enough of the weaponry around the access areas to get your people out once they’ve brought in the sub. But as you’ve already pointed out, the Halkas have lost most or all of their air power, which is usually the trickiest part.”

For a long minute Fayr gazed at me, his striped face expressionless. “You humans are without a doubt the most hunch-driven species in the galaxy.”

“Probably,” I agreed. “But for us, it works.”

“It does indeed,” he said, his whiskers stiffening in a tight smile. “Very well. Let us do it.”

SEVENTEEN:

We finished blasting our hole and lowered the sub in. It took off with a will, diving deep toward the coral beds and the Halkan subs no doubt already arrayed in its path.

But those defenders would be mostly civilians, whether they had some bizarre group mind helping them or not. The attackers were warriors, and I had no doubt that the Bellidos would make it through.

Especially with us throwing in a double helping of chaos at the other end of the rabbit hole. With the lifter again hugging our flank we took off, flew past the mass of ground vehicles still uselessly trying to get to us, and made for the harvesting complex.

My first thought as we approached was that someone must have seriously overestimated the importance of the place as well as the amount of profit coming out of it. All that was visible was a modest trio of single-story buildings set around a docking and under-ice access area.

It wasn’t until we were nearly on top of it that I realized the truth. The three buildings were merely the front of the operation, a deliberately deceptive facade designed to throw off inquisitive eyes and minds. The rest of the complex had been built almost invisibly into the ice, probably constructed on the surface with ice then layered over it.

The true access to the coral beds was camouflaged even better. The only way we knew where it was, in fact, was by backtracking the antiair fire that erupted in our direction as we approached.

But my hunch paid off. The defenses were geared toward protecting the coral beds, with the workers’ safety running a distant second. As a probably unintended consequence, several of the larger ice-sheathed buildings lay squarely in one line of fire or another, creating a whole set of kill-zone shadows in the outer parts of the complex. Fayr landed us in the most convenient of them, and with weapons at the ready he and the rest of his team headed off into battle.

Bayta and I stayed behind in the torchferry. Our vac suits didn’t have the protective armor and heavy-duty puncture-sealant systems their chameleon suits did, and I doubted either of us had the training and stamina to keep