Double Helix 03_ Red Sector - Diane Carey [0]
“ATTENTION! THIS IS A STARFLEET SPECIAL SECURITY FORCES EVACUATION SQUAD! WE ARE ABOUT TO LAND A DIPLOMATIC COACH AND FIVE FIGHTER ESCORTS. ALL CIVILIANS MUST CLEAR THE COURTYARD IMMEDIATELY! ANYONE REMAINING WILL BE STUNNED AND REMOVED TO A SECURITY BRIG! ALL PERSONS… ATFENTION!… THEY’RE NOT CLEARING OUT. CAN THEY EVEN HEAR ME? PERRATON, IS THE TRANSLATOR ON? PECAN, GET YOUR WING BACK INTO FORMATION! WHERE’S THE BROADCAST GREENLIGHT? WHAT KIND OF DUNSELS INSTALLED THIS SYSTEM?”
“AH, PERRATON HERE… STILES, BE AWARE THE BROADCAST SYSTEM IS GREEN AND TRANSLATING. YOU JUST CALLED THE WHOLE PLANET A BUNCH OF DUNSELS.”
“SHUT IT DOWN!”
“OAK ONE, THIS IS BRAZIL. FORMATION’S SHIFTING STARBOARD. THE EMBASSY’S GOT A BIG GARGOYLE ON IT AND I’M ABOUT TO CLEAN ITS TEETH.” “LATERAL THRUST. ABORT LANDING PATTERN—
PERRATON, WOULD YOU RED THE P.A. BEFORE I COUGH UP A LUNG?”
“Copy that. Public address speakers are shut down. Fighter formation’s still too cramped for diamond grid, Stiles. Acorn just bumped a water tower.”
“All wings, pull up! We’ll modify formation and try our approach again. Did the whole city hear us arguing?” “They heard you arguing.”
“Ahhh, I should’ve become a medic… Nuts, Oak One. Go to Ruby formation. Pecan, move two degrees port. Brazil, get off his tail. Acorn, keep your wings trim. Why can’t you people hold a hover grid?”
“Oak One, Acorn. It’s not us. Stiles, it’s you. You have to put the coach down and vertical your stabilizers to give us enough room to land in that courtyard.”
“Stabilizers… I hate stabilizers… I was supposed to go in for multi-vehicular flight school this week, but nooo, I had to grab a mission. Listen up! I’ll land the coach first, then all wings settle around me five seconds later. Keep it sharp!”
“What’s the matter with you, Stiles?” Pilot Andrea Hipp’s German accent seemed crisp over the comm. “This isn’t synchronized swimming, you know.” “I said no chatter! The ambassador’s watching!”
A prattle of aye-ayes settled the issue for the moment, but did nothing for Eric Stiles’s stomach, or his icy fingers, or his tingling feet. This command stuff left a lot to be wished for. And his hair was in his eyes… he was looking through a blond curtain. Didn’t help.
On the screens of his fully carpeted cockpit, Stiles saw the platinum glitter of the Federation Embassy at PojjanPiraKot seem to rise up to meet him. Actually, he and the coach he piloted were descending into the brick city courtyard, but the illusion of a floating building disoriented him briefly. On the secondary side monitors, the five fighter escorts regrouped into Ruby formation and found the space to wiggle into the brick court, setting around the main coach vessel like baby ducks crowding a drake.
“Doesn’t look like I expected t to,” he commented. “What are those metal bands on all the buildings?”
“The city’s all reinforced.” Ensign Travis Perraton’s blue eyes peered with fresh curiosity at a smaller monitor as he adjusted the coach’s shields to let them land, irritating Stiles with his eternal good mood. “They’ve got some kind of gravitational problem on this planet. All the buildings have had to be structurally rebuilt over the past few years since it started.” “What kind of gravitational trouble?”
“Something like high tides or earthquakes, I guess. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway”
Stiles wanted to comment, but was busy settling the coach onto its extender pads. The fantasy of brilliant artisanship in moving spaceborne vessels into an atmosphere and landing them in a surefooted, graceful manner had shriveled in his hands. At least that part was over. He trembled with irritation as the system’s check barber poled. Perraton had managed to clear the belly shields. Otherwise, the coach would’ve sat in the air like a beach ball on the water-and probably rolled over. “You’re down” Perraton confirmed. “You can unclench now.” “I’m fine!”
“Yeah, sure you are. You worried about coming in shielded for the whole twenty hours it took us to get here from the starbase”
Stiles bristled at the suggestion that he wasn’t