The Riddled Post - Aaron Rosenberg [2]
Just. Corsi realized she’d been hanging around with engineers for too long.
“The bad news,” Blue continued, “is that I’m not getting any shield readings. It’s down like we thought, so we’ll need to use the generator and hope the damage isn’t too severe.”
Then the station came fully into view, and Corsi actually let a soft curse escape her. That distracted Blue enough to look, and even Soloman glanced up, then stared in shock.
The outpost was not that large—a dozen buildings, perhaps, all clustered together—and without its shields Corsi could clearly see each building even through the haze of the acidic atmosphere. The buildings were weathered, the air obviously having worn away edges and pitted surfaces once the shields had dropped.
But what had evoked the curse were the holes. Everywhere she looked, the buildings were riddled with them, drilled right through the walls at various angles. It was as if a giant needle had pierced the outpost, time and again.
“Approaching shuttle bay,” Corsi announced, and she was angered that her voice shook slightly. At least her hands were steady. She shouldn’t have been so affected by this. “Get the shield generator ready.”
A minute later, the shuttlecraft settled to the deck of the shuttle bay—which, being exposed to the atmosphere, was also pitted and warped in spots. The Franklin’s engines shut down with a whine, and they all unbuckled. Corsi had insisted on everyone strapping in before they left the da Vinci, which had proved necessary in the turbulent ionization they had just flown through. As Blue set up the generator, Corsi drew her phaser as she stepped toward the exit hatch.
“Is that necessary?” Soloman inquired, gesturing toward the weapon. “Anything dangerous would have been killed by the outside air.”
“Maybe, but I can’t chance it,” she replied, wishing in retrospect that she’d requested that Gomez let her bring another one of her own team down. “If it’s safe, fine. But if there is something out there, something built to survive this stuff or prepared to handle it, I’d rather not have to waste time reaching for a weapon.” The little Bynar seemed at a loss for a reply, and all three of them were silent as they gathered around the hatch. She looked at Blue. “All set?” The eight-armed blue insectoid nodded. “Okay. On three I pop the hatch, you hit the shield, and we step out. One, two, three!”
It worked perfectly, especially for a nonsecurity team. Corsi opened the hatch, Blue already extending her arm and the generator, and the shield formed just beyond the shuttle door, protecting them from the atmosphere. Blue stepped out first, being careful to keep the shield just overlapping the hatch, and Corsi followed, then Soloman. The Bynar shut the hatch behind him. Then Corsi took the lead and led the other two quickly over to the nearest building. The doors were inoperable, of course, but she knew where the manual override was and it took only a minute for her to flip the lever, pop the doors, and usher the other two inside. She noticed the head-size holes in the door and the walls, but set that aside for now—she’d examine them more closely later.
Once inside, Blue set the generator down on the floor. She and Soloman turned to the consoles, while Corsi examined the rest of the room. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. There were bodies on the floor, all of them largely decomposed—the air had done the same to them as to the walls, only far worse. The air felt alive even through the shield and their suits, as the charge transferred to every surface. Details seemed to waver slightly—Corsi knew it was a side effect of the current in the air, but it made her nervous, and she tightened her grip on the phaser for reassurance. At least the area seemed secure—no lifesigns, no movement beyond that shimmer, and no other entrances beside the door they’d used. So once again Corsi forced herself to wait and watch while the two engineers did their work.
“Systems all check out,” Blue announced after several minutes, and Soloman nodded in agreement. “The shields