Page 13 of Galactic Search and Rescue
The airsled’s console amplified the reply. “Ja, ja,I’m fine. Just more dust.”
Hatya pinged again. “Confirming your lifesign readings. Three clustered about seventy-five meters west of the airsled. Never seen a whole community building of incalloy. What did the builders do, salvage a crash-landed interstellar freighter for construction materials?”
Taz described their plan of action to the girl while Rylando lifted the airsled to glide slowly to the opening.
“You go first.” She pointed to the shaft. “Don’t scrape me off the service ladder on your way back up.”
“I won’t.”
Carefully easing into the shaft, he let the airsled sink slowly. He kept his scans running realtime in case the metal walls hid unexpected damage.
The shaft could have fit two more big sleds like his. Maybe the architect planned the lift to hold a hundred people at a time, to fulfill the CAC’s alternate purpose as the town’s emergency shelter.
He keyed the airsled’s amplifier. “Jhidelle, I’ll land at the far side. Please stay where you are near the ladder until I open the side door for you.”
Keeping a steady pace, he glanced at his cameras to see Taz in her suit climbing down. She made it look so easy to adapt her human motive agility to the tech. The only time he’d tried on a mech suit, he’d tripped over his own two feet and done serious damage to the commander’s favorite shuttle.
Landing on the roof of the lift car proved impossible. What he’d taken for a dusty solid surface was actually a warp mesh that couldn’t handle the weight of the airsled and would snare the runners. He set the sled to a stable hover and opened the side door. Holding onto the sidebar with one hand, he leaned out and beckoned Jhidelle. “Come on.” If the third power coil wasn’t so bad, he wouldn’t have had to yell so loud to be heard over their vibration.
She clutched her coat lapels with one hand and walked quickly toward the airsled. He gave her a hand up and pointed her toward the jump seat. “Pull that down and web in.”
Moyo stood in her crate, tail wagging, making a soft snuffling noise. Jhidelle’s head snapped to the back. Her eyes widened as they darted to each crate.
“They’re our trained rescue team,” he told her and pointed to each. “Moyo, Shen, Phobos, Deimos, Mariposa, and Lerox.”
The animals were clearly as fascinated by her as she was them.
Taz’s tone sounded in his earwire. “I’m halfway down. I think this shaft is twisted five or six degrees, which is probably why the lift grounded itself. Some of the service ladder rungs have popped their anchors. My scans agree with Hatya’s on where the lifesigns are. The basement hallway seems clear, and it’s big. Maybe the lifesigns are stuck in one of the storage units? Hatya’s updated records say each unit has its own life-support system, but they depend on the building’s independent power.”
“Which is glitching,” he subvocalized.
Waving to get Jhidelle’s attention, he pointed to the side of the jump seat. “Web in. Safety rules. Sit sideways so there’s room for your feet.”
“I recommend we get the others now,”said Taz,“rather than making a second trip.”
After making sure Jhidelle hooked the web all the way, he squeezed by the tall equipment cases to stand at the front controls. “With only two good coils instead of three, we might have to make a second trip anyway, if the lifesigns are heavy. As it is, we’ll have to re-stack the crates, or hook one to the roof.” The airsled’s scans agreed with Taz’s and Hatya’s. “Let’s try it.”
“Copy that. Meet you in the hallway.”
Since the girl was webbed in, he didn’t bother closing the side door as he slowly raised the airsled up the shaft twelve meters, then eased it into the wide-open doors of the basement hallway. Simple hovering was easier on the coils than grounding and lift-off, so he floated in place a half meter off the floor.
Scans didn’t stress the coils, either, so he ran the full array. A series of at least twenty or thirty light-ringed doors lined the hallway, each with the company’s logo and a number, an impressive-looking lock, and a nearby wallcomp. Seen from this perspective, the building was a lot bigger than it had looked upstairs, and this was the short end of its L-shape.
Taz swung into Rylando’s holo camera view a moment later, as if she’d used anti-gravity to get to the hallway entrance. Her floodlights turned off as she walked to stand next to the airsled’s open door. All he could see out the door was her suit’s knees to her shoulders.
He turned to look at his passenger. “Which storage unit will your father be in? And do you know who’s with him?”
“I don’t know,” replied the girl, sounding miserable and worried.
In the sling on his chest, Otak abruptly turned around and stuck his head out toward the open door, nose quivering. Rylando lightly connected to the big rat’s thought stream. The reason for Otak’s alert was unsettling.
Turning back to the controls, he reached up to tap his earwire to tell Taz, then hesitated. Would she take him seriously, or would she be like most of the unit and their boss and call him deluded? He made himself touch his earwire and subvocalize anyway. “Otak’s nose says this corridor has traces of explosives. Likely Kem-X.”
Time stood still until she replied.
“Acknowledged. Give Otak an extra treat for me. I’ll do chem scans along with the rest so we can report it. Let’s free our targets and jet out.”
Relief gave him back his ability to breathe. “Good. Yes. Right.”Apparently, it also made him sound like a fluffhead.
