Have Tech, Will Travel (SCE Books 1-4) - Keith R. A. DeCandido_. [et al.] [56]
He entered the command.
Within seconds, his vision cleared. His thought processes once again settled into the orderly pattern he was accustomed to. And the green haze faded.
Gomez was coughing furiously, but she managed to get out the words “Good work, 110” between coughs.
“I did what any of us would have, Commander,” 110 said, not wanting to take undue credit for something so routine.
“Don’t sell yourself short.” More coughs. “You’re the only one who knew your way around Ganitriul’s circuits well enough to perform the override.” Yet more coughs. “So stop being so modest and take credit for your work.”
110 blinked. He supposed that the commander was right.
So why did he feel like he hadn’t done anything special?
“Corsi to Gomez, are you there , Commander?”
Tapping her combadge, Gomez managed to say, “I’m here. We had a bit of a scrape with some gas, but we’re okay now.”
Prompted by those words, 110 went to the minimedikit that Hawkins—who was coughing even more than Gomez—had on his belt pouch and removed the medical tricorder.
“Well,” Corsi was saying, “I’m out of the force-field, and we’ve got full weapons now. I nailed both prisoners with heavy stun, so they won’t be a factor for a while.”
“All right, head for Drew’s position and see if you can cut him free from the bulkheads—or at least cut a hole for some air for him. Then get to the core. We’ll meet you there.”
“Yes, sir. Corsi out.”
110 said, “According to the readings, both of you suffered minor damage to your esophageal passages from the gas. It can be repaired when we return to the da Vinci .”
“How about you?” Gomez asked between two more coughs.
“No deleterious aftereffects,” he said calmly.
Smiling, Gomez said, “Lucky you. C’mon, let’s get a move on to the core. How much farther?”
“Approximately fifty meters,” 110 said, consulting the tricorder, “then down another ladder, and we will be there, Commander.”
The two humans’ coughs were now coming at longer intervals, which was a good sign. Gomez said, “Let’s go.”
Undlar had finally disposed of First Speaker Ansed’s body. It had been a revolting task, and one he never wanted to be even remotely involved with again as long as he lived. He swore that, one day, he would kill Emarur for forcing him to commit this depraved action.
But, for now, he needed the owner of the Senbolma , so he restrained himself.
As he reentered the flight deck, he said, “Contact the surface. Hagi hasn’t checked in, and I want an update.”
Emarur asked, “Is the body—” “
Yes , the body is disposed of. I hauled the damn thing to the transporter bay and dispersed her atoms into space. Now, contact the surface!”
Turning his back on Undlar, Emarur opened a channel. “ Senbolma to Hagi.”
There was no response. Angrily, Undlar leaned over Emarur’s shoulder and said, “Hagi, this is Undlar; answer me, dammit!”
“Something must have happened to him,” Emarur said, showing a phenomenal grasp of the blindingly obvious.
“Close the channel,” said Undlar. “Hagi’s got the only comm unit. We may have to beam down and see for ourselves.”
“Hang on a second,” Emarur said, turning to the pilot. “What’re you picking up down there?”
The pilot shook his head. “I’ve been reading the same life signs all along. Some of them are faint, though—they’re going deeper into the infrastructure of Ganitriul, and it’s hard to get a reading that far down. And some people have dropped out as they went into some areas, and—”
Undlar had no patience for this. “Are there still twelve Eerlikka down there?”
“Yes,” the pilot said.
“Are there still five aliens?”
“Yes. Four human and one Bynar, in case you’re interested.”
“I’m not,” Undlar said. “We’ll have to—”
An alarm went off. The pilot looked at his readout. “It’s the da Vinci ! It’s back—it was