The Brave and the Bold Book Two - Keith R. A. DeCandido [14]
Never had the system neglected to predict a rainstorm.
Certainly, not this kind of rainstorm. Oh, it rained periodically in this area of the continent, but nothing like this.
It was coming down in sheets, a heavy wind blowing hard enough that the rain seemed to be coming at him sideways.
Eska’s home was only a five-minute walk from the office complex where he had his seat of power. Picking up the pace, he ran the rest of the way, covering the distance in less than a minute. Grateful for his Central Command training, he wasn’t even winded when he reached the door.
When Eska had taken over the administration of Nramia, he had had the military headquarters moved to this building. Though it was considered an eyesore by most—it was from a period in Cardassia’s architectural development that many considered negligible, and indeed most examples of it throughout the Union had long since been demolished—Eska rather admired it. The entire facade was made of one-way transparent aluminum. Nobody could see in, obviously—that would be a security threat—but every room in the building had a glorious view of the capital city. Better still, throughout the day they could see the sun providing its glorious warmth.
Except for today, of course. Today, all they saw were the streaks of rain on the windows.
Eska was greeted at the door by his two aides with a towel and a refresher. Inside the lobby of the complex, the staccato rhythm of the rain pounding on the transparent aluminum was a constant undercurrent. It reminded Eska of being on board a ship. Whenever he traveled, the thrumming engines always seemed ridiculously loud and made concentration difficult. He never understood how anyone could grow accustomed to such constant noise. Now, with the even more intrusive noise of the rain, he wondered again.
The taller of the aides, Glinn Coram, shook his head and smiled. “Were we transported to Ferenginar without anyone telling us, sir?”
“I’m starting to wonder,” Eska said, toweling his ears. They were so waterlogged that Coram had sounded like a staticky subspace comlink. “Find out what’s going on. Get in touch with the meteorological center. This—” He was interrupted by a massive thunderclap of a type he hadn’t heard since he was stationed on Chin’toka IX during monsoon season. “—should not have happened,” he finished in a harder voice.
“Yes, sir.”
To the shorter, fatter aide, he said, “Doveror, do a full sensor sweep of the entire planet. Tie in to the satellites. I want a full picture.” He had to raise his voice even higher, as the rain was growing more intense by the minute. No longer staccato, the rain was a virtual wall of sound slamming against the building.
“Yes, sir,” Glinn Doveror said in his squeaky voice. Most found him irritating and difficult to listen to, but he was also a most efficient aide, so Eska put up with it.
“And call Gul Evek and tell him to get a ship over here, just in ca—”
Eska’s words were interrupted by another thunderclap, but this time it was immediately followed by an earsplitting shattering sound, as an entire section of the transparent aluminum collapsed, shards flying through the air, propelled by the wind and no longer held in place by the structure of the building. Even as his ears cleared of that noise, it was replaced by exclamations of pain ranging from quick shouts to lengthy screams. Shards of transparent aluminum were all over the floor of the lobby, and probably elsewhere in the building.
Then Eska felt like he was being pelted with stones. The rain had turned into hail and was now coming into the building. Raising his arm to protect his eyes, Eska ran toward the turbolift bay at the inner portion of the building. He didn’t even bother to look to see if Doveror or Coram followed.
As it happened, they did,