"Don't I get one?" asked Alice.
"No chance."
"I'm Peace Force! I know how to handle a weapon."
"Yeah, but we're not shooting anyone. It's just for show." Teresa saw Alice's expression, and took a moment to lock the door. Then she lifted the hatch in the floor, and a breath of warm, humid air wafted in. It had an earthy smell, with a strong undertone of compost. She saw Alice's wrinkled nose, and grinned. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."
"The whole place smells like this?"
"You're lucky it's Spring in these parts. In Autumn you can barely breathe." Teresa gave the ladder a hefty shove, sending it down to the landing pad with a rattle. She peered through the opening for a moment, before climbing down from the ship.
Alice followed as soon as the ladder was clear, and together they stood on the landing pad. The first thing Alice noticed was the insect noise: a cacophony from about a million bugs. The second thing she noticed was the whine of a mosquito, and she swatted the back of her hand as it settled. Another went for her neck, and she splatted that one too.
"They love the humidity." Teresa dug in her jacket and came out with a tiny spray bottle. "Here, put this on. It'll keep them at bay for a bit."
Alice sprayed herself with the strong-smelling concoction and handed it back. Teresa used the spray herself, then tucked it away.
Now that she wasn't being eaten alive, Alice had time to look around. The landing pad was nestled in a tiny clearing, the trees growing right up to the cracked, concrete slab. Some of the branches were overhanging, their leaves brown from the exhaust heat of visiting ships. The ends of some were splintered, where they'd attempted to grow too far.
There was a greenish mist hanging between the trees, and the air felt as thick as soup. Nearby, there was a refuelling cluster, the pipework covered in rust, the cabinet sprouting moss in a rainbow of colours. Even the concrete pad wasn't immune, with weeds thrusting up between the cracks. The whole place was a gigantic, thriving ecosystem, and Alice was certain that if nobody visited for a couple of years, the undergrowth would quickly swallow up all signs of human habitation.
Teresa was wearing a broad leather wristband, and she turned it to checked a small, inlaid display. "Smith's due in twenty minutes. I'll grab some fuel, and then we'll make our way to the middle of the landing field."
"You call this a field?" said Alice, gesturing at the thick trees.
"Landing forest, if you prefer. But if we wait in the middle, we'll be close to all the pads. I can't tell which he's going to use, so that's the best we can do."
Alice peered over the edge of the pad at the thick undergrowth. "Do they have snakes here?"
"Sure."
"Do you have a bigger can of that spray?"
Teresa laughed. "They'll get out the way if you make enough noise. Come on, give me a hand with the fuel pipe."
They unhooked the thick hose and dragged it the ship, and after Teresa touched her wristband to a contact on the pump, fuel began to flow. It didn't take long, and then Alice hauled the pipe back to the edge of the pad again, while Teresa sealed the fuel cap. By the time Alice got back, Teresa was just stepping off the ladder, having closed the landing hatch. She was tucking something into her jacket pocket, something which looked like a bundle of plastic strips.
"What's that?" asked Alice.
"Just something we might need. Come on, we'd better get moving."
Then they leapt down into the undergrowth, and, with Teresa leading the way, started on foot towards the center of the landing field.
Chapter 21
Tyron's vessel was getting ready to land, and the ride had been a whole lot smoother aboard the big ship. It had dealt with reentry imperiously, without the shaking and buffeting that Alice had experienced, and now it approached the landing field with fire jetting from its thrusters.
There were no windows or portholes in the flight deck, but the big wrap-around screen showed the view just as well. Better, in fact, because it was enhanced by low-light cameras, and there were overlays showing speed, heading and altitude, along with a hundred other variables. A flattened circle in the darkness highlighted their destination: a landing pad still hidden by the tree canopy.
Tyron was sitting at the centre console, the flight stick in one hand, his gaze fixed on the screen. Three other crew, plus Harriet, were sitting in the lesser positions to the sides.
The circle expanded as they approached the landing pad, and when it was just about to slip off the bottom of the screen, Tyron eased the stick back and brought the big ship in for a perfect landing. There was a scraping noise from somewhere along the hull, and then a bump.
"Damn trees," muttered Tyron. "Next time, I'm going to burn the damn things with the jets."
He cut the engines, and gestured at one of the crew members. "You, get the fuel hose connected. I want to be out of here in ten minutes."
"Yes sir," said the man smartly, and he almost ran to the airlock door. He pulled it open and vanished into the airlock proper, closing the door behind himself.
"Been here before?" Smith asked Harriet.
She shook her head. Smith and her, they might have a truce, but her wrists were still sore from the ropes and she wasn't about to engage in chit chat.
"Lucky," remarked Smith. "It's a horrible place. Cockroaches, snakes, vicious animals … and that's just the people."
Despite herself, Harriet smiled.
Smith glanced down at a display. Harriet
