Dark Space - Marianne de Pierres [88]
Trin’s thoughts turned to Joe Scali as his team of six, headed by Juno Genarro, crept towards Technology.
‘Don Pellegrini, come up here behind me and call out the floor plan. Anyone starts shooting, you find the floor.’
Trin could barely hear Juno’s order over his own ragged breathing. Spots faded in and out before his eyes. Hunger and exhaustion had begun to steal his sense of reality. He gripped Juno’s shoulder.
Genarro tensed under his fellalo but didn’t look back at him. ‘Your biostats are weak. Bite down on the pickup. You’ve got a small reserve of water in the web that has glucose in it.’
Trin did as instructed and moisture squirted into his cheeks. He tongued the sweet flavour and his vision cleared almost instantly.
‘You can probably do that twice more before you run out.’ Genarro paused. ‘Will that be enough?’
Trin let go of his shoulder. ‘Si.’
They crept into the labyrinth of offices, finding no one. Some desks looked as though they had been cleared for the day others were abandoned as if the person had left suddenly.
The pattern was repeated through every office on every floor. Each window gave them another panorama over Dockside with the same view: smoking fires and the absence of orbital traffic in the purple sky. For the first time since its settlement nothing was coming in or going out of Araldis.
Seb Malocchi’s third group reported in that they’d found the beacon unattended, but intact and functioning normally No signs of damage.
Christian ordered them to rendezvous with Juno’s group. He was at the door to Malocchi’s office but couldn’t get in.
‘Nothing here either, Capitano,’ said Juno.
Trin felt clammy and claustrophobic under the webbing. The glucose was wearing off fast and he desperately wanted to get out of the building and back to Djeserit but something stronger than this urge compelled him to push the search further. ‘What about the refectory? We haven’t looked there.’
‘You think maybe they’re all taking a siesta?’ said Juno.
Laughs congested the shortcast.
Trin waited until it quieted. ‘It is the largest space in the building. If someone wanted them all in one place . . .’
‘Capitano?’ asked Juno.
‘Rendezvous with Seb, then check it out. We’re nearly through breaking this seal. Should be in Malocchi’s office in a few moments. I’ll know more then.’
The clamminess that had beset Trin turned to unrestrained sweating. He gripped the rifle hard to keep it from sliding in his grasp. Spots danced before his eyes again and he bit again on the glucose release.
Juno gestured an order to his team, pointing for Trin to take the position at his shoulder. ‘On the bottom floor?’ he asked.
Trin nodded.
Seb’s team met up with them on the stairs above the bottom level. Juno and Seb exchanged the barest of tactical instructions. Juno would count them in from opposite doors. They would enter low and cautious.
‘I can smell food.’ Someone broke the agreed silence.
Trin could smell it too. His mouth watered so violently that he dribbled. He felt slight pressure from the web as it absorbed the moisture.
Genarro slid open the double doors and crawled in, rifle first.
‘We’re in.’ Christian’s voice broke shortcast silence again.
Weapon fire started up almost simultaneously.
Trin froze with the confusion of noise. Who’s shooting? He was pushed down onto the floor as the shortcast channel clamoured with competing voices:
‘What in the Crux’s holy—’
‘Juno. I need back-up!’
‘Principe be our father. Care for us in our unspoiled world and deliver us from—’
Someone was praying. Trin tried to sort through the cacophony for a voice he recognised. The weapon fire, he realised, was up on Malocchi’s floor.
But the prayer came from Juno inside the refectory. Trin forced himself to crawl through the doors after him. Juno was on his knees, fingers steepled together, rifle discarded.
At one end of the large room tables and chairs were piled high against the windows. To the far side, overcooked, dehydrated food