The Riddled Post - Aaron Rosenberg [12]
His companion looked where he’d directed. “Nothing. Why?”
Fabian simply grinned at her. “Nothing. Exactly.”
* * *
An hour later, the team had reconvened in the observation lounge on the da Vinci, this time at Fabian’s request. Sonya had never seen the tactical expert so excited—he was like a little kid with a new toy.
“With Frnats’s help, I was able to analyze each hole in Acid Camp.”
“Acid Camp?” Gold asked.
“That’s what the locals called it, sir,” Sonya quickly explained.
Nodding, Gold said, “Fine, go on.”
Fabian put up an enlarged image of one of the holes. “First off, we know what did this—at least, what kind of thing.”
Gold leaned forward. “And what, you were just saving this information for a rainy day?”
“No, sir. We just found out and I’d already requested this meeting, so I figured I might as well tell everyone in person.” Fabian pointed at the image onscreen. “Notice the edges of the hole itself. I’ve had the computer remove the corrosion damage, so all we’re seeing is the hole the way it first looked. The edges are slightly jagged, which means they were torn rather than burned or even cut. But the metal beyond the immediate area is barely stressed, not bent or bowed at all, so whatever tore through was moving so fast it didn’t affect the surrounding area. And if you look very closely,” he magnified the image along one edge, “you’ll see a slight ridge running through the hole, at a diagonal. Whatever did this was rotating.”
“Like a drill bit?” That was Carol, and Fabian smiled at her—it reminded Sonya of a teacher who’d just gotten the right answer from a favorite student.
“Exactly. Which makes sense—this is a mining camp. Now, it would take an enormous drill to do these, far too big for a person to lift, and some of these holes are in places no drill rig could reach, not to mention the fact that these lines go all the way from one end of camp to another, which would require a drill bit some two hundred meters long. But it’s a start.”
“And every little bit helps,” Sonya said. “Good job, Fabian. But you were going to call us together anyway, so I’m assuming you have something else to tell us.” She already knew he did—Fabian wasn’t the type to get all worked up over something minor.
She immediately saw that she’d been right, as the eager look returned to Fabian’s face. “Not to tell you, Commander—to show you. Like I said, Frnats and I analyzed each hole in the camp. Now, the corrosion levels proved to be a dead end—they’re the same for every hole.”
“So they were all caused at the same time?”
“Either that or the shields didn’t drop until after the holes were made. So no help there. But it’s only been a day since the attack, and something moving that fast generates a lot of heat. When we first went down there those holes were still hot to the touch. So we measured the temperature of the metal around each edge—minute variations on some, but enough for the computer to organize them.” Fabian hit a few keys on his padd, and the model of the camp came up, with the crisscrossing lines he’d shown her before. “Now, when we factor in those variations, and tell the computer to display each hole as it occurred, in order—”
The lines disappeared, leaving the model untouched for a moment. Then a hole blossomed in one building, on the outer rim of the camp. A line formed from that hole to the next building in, continuing until it had passed through the center square and then through several buildings on the opposite side. A second line began an instant later, angling back in toward the center and across. Everyone watched silently as line after line appeared, and Sonya noticed several shudders as her team thought about what it must have been like with those holes sprouting all around them. She fought down the shivers herself, determined to present a strong front to her team. Then Kieran leaned forward.
“Computer, freeze sim!” The line stopped in midformation, and everyone turned toward him, but he gestured at the screen instead. “Sorry, but look! That line isn’t straight. A lot