The Murdered Sun - Christie Golden [84]
Almost at once Paris heard the click-click of the guard attempting to reopen the gate. Of course. There had to be a manual override, something to block an exterior "attack." He looked around and saw a huge metal bar. He pulled on it with all his might, but it did not budge. Paris didn't even have to open his mouth before two Verunans were there, lending their powerful muscles. The override mechanism clunked into place almost as the guard entered the last number. Paris waited an instant, then, satisfied that they had effectively blocked the attack from the outside, for the moment at least, turned his attention to the second gate.
He didn't bother to check to see if the Akerians had changed the code on this door, too. He knew they had and immediately set to work using the tricorder.
As the symbols flipped past, Paris turn to his companions. "This is an airlock," he explained. "The atmosphere in here is adjusting right now to accommodate us. When this second door opens, the inside environment will be comparable to the environment on Veruna Four. Movement's going to be a lot easier.
But I'm sure there are going to be more guards on the other side of this door, so, everyone, be ready."
Paris couldn't feel the environment changing; his envirosuit protected against that as well as more hostile changes. He glanced over at the Verunans.
"Flatten yourselves again the sides and have your weapons at hand.
Miweni, while my tricorder's unlocking this gate, I want you to locate the slaves."
Miweni nodded, activating his tricorder. "Found them. They are just where we thought they would be.
Down this long corridor, past the first two rooms on the left and right, right at the first intersection of corridors. They are in that first room on the left."
Paris nodded, his blue eyes still watching the symbols. Six.
"Good. Everybody, here we go." Seven.
The door began to open, and Paris quickly exchanged his tricorder for his phaser rifle. He flattened himself against the wall just as he had instructed the Verunans.
The door clanged against the ceiling. There was no sign of any guards.
Paris didn't like this, not one bit. True, the Akerians had not had much advance warning. After the battle during which Voyager had disabled the Conquest, Victory had left for Akeras.
The first time anyone inside the concavity had heard about Voyager was just a little over an hour ago, when Victory and Destroyer had gone into Sun-Eater and returned with three other ships.
He thought over what he knew about the Akerian mentality and couldn't conceive of such arrogance as Linneas had displayed having thought for an instant that Voyager would get past their defenses and enter Sun-Eater. Even if Linneas had warned the people on the planet--and Paris was willing to bet that he hadn't--there would have been no time to beef up the guards on the planet.
Paris thought that the first warning anybody on this empty, dead shell of a planet had had that Voyager and her little band of Verunan rescuers was on its way was when the six small ships had penetrated the atmosphere.
Time enough to position guards outside on the landing pad, as they had seen. And certainly time enough to change the code on the off chance that the intruders could break in. But not time enough to stage complicated traps.
Most likely, the Akerians were waiting in ambush in those two rooms Miweni had mentioned. He voiced his concern to the others, who nodded their comprehension. Then, taking a deep breath, Paris stepped forward into the corridor.
It was a lot easier to move now, for which he was grateful, but the guards inside had the advantage of not wearing cumbersome, unfamiliar envirosuits. His phaser rifle in his arms, Paris glanced about. There had been several buildings, dotting the scarred surface of the planet.
Many of these were science stations, where the data and artifacts gathered by the laboring Verunans were analyzed and notated. These were of no concern to Paris and his friends. The