Page 14 of Galactic Search and Rescue
He turned to take Otak back to his crate when movement caught his eye. Jhidelle’s big puffy coat was squirming. Extending his talent told him why.
Giving Jhidelle a raised eyebrow, he pointed to her middle. “Perhaps you should open your coat so your animals can get some fresh air.”
She froze, then shook her head. Finally, her expression fell, and she opened her coat. In a cleverly crafted vest with pouches, she carried two small animals. “Father doesn’t like them, but I couldn’t leave them behind.” She pointed to a red-furred face with ears twice as big. “This is Farenoso. He’s a Fennec fox.” She stroked the brown, large-eyed creature. “This is Tzima. She’s a kinkajou.”
He couldn’t very well fault her for something he would have done as a kid. Actually, considering the crates in the back and the rat nestled against his chest, something he still did. Which made him realize Jhidelle and he might have more in common than he thought. Reaching out to her pets confirmed his suspicion. She was an animal-affinity minder. In their minds, he felt her presence as a kind of extra energy.
While it was unlikely the girl had bad intentions, he kicked himself for not realizing the reason for his own team’s heightened interest in her. A higher-level talent could override his connection to his animals. He’d done his best to train them to resist and escape, but they could still be forced to do things against their will.
Taz swore. “I lost my connection to Hatya. How about you?”
Returning to the front console, he checked the readout. “I still have thin band. Considering how thick the denscrete is above us, I bet I’ll lose all comms when I go farther down the hallway and out of bounce range.”
Taz growled. “This is ridiculous. As soon as we get back, I’m upgrading my suit comms out of my own savings. GSAR Tech Sec will have to catch me.”
They wouldn’t. While the Tech Security division was notorious for confiscating unauthorized tech, it was also the most understaffed and under-funded division in GSAR.
“I’ll send Hatya a ping with our plans, with a status check in thirty.”
“Copy. I’ll scout for our target.” She snorted. “At least our earwires still work down here.”She took off with a distance-eating stride.
He sent the comms packet and nudged the airsled forward to follow.
Taz was already activating the first storage unit’s wallcomp by the time he caught up with her.
The overhead lighting flickered twice, then went out. The residual glow from light-ringed doors and the wallcomps died a moment later.
Their only illumination in the hallway came from the airsled and Taz’s suit.
5
Salamaray Citizen Activity Center, Perlarossa • GDAT 3242.334
Taz used to think being trapped in a cave two kilometers below ground was the worst rescue environment, but this basement was making her rethink that. She uttered a vile curse.
“Copy that,” replied Rylando dryly. “Otak is still alerting on explosives. Can’t think of many benign reasons they’d be here.”
“This day keeps getting better, doesn’t it?” Her scans confirmed three lifesigns behind door number 77.
Theoretically, the units should have egress provisions for sticky situations, but with this jinxed building, who knew?
She knocked three times on the heavy door with her fist. No answer, but she wasn’t sure she’d hear them through the thick door plates. Just as she was about to deploy her plasma cutter, the lights blinked on. The door and wallcomp lights glowed bright again.
Hurriedly, she retracted her helmet and used her teke to wake the wallcomp display. “Galactic Search and Rescue. Do you need assistance?”
After a long moment, a baritone voice answered. “Yes. Get us out of here immediately.” The accent was snooty and the tone sounded entitled.
Great. Her favorite kind of rescue target. “If the door has an emergency-exit bar or wheel, please try it now.” She kept her tone professional. “It might be on the door or in the frame.”
After several moments of silence, the voice was back. “It still doesn’t work.”Accusation accompanied the condescension.
Another, tenor-range voice added, “We’ve tried everything we can think of. The access biometrics aren’t working for anything, not even lights. We think the lock is jammed. Or corrupted. When the earthquake started, mine was the only door open, so we all sheltered in here. The door locked before we could stop it.”
“Okay. I’ll try something out here. Please watch the comps and locks and tell me if anything changes.” It sometimes helped stressed-out victims to give them something to do.
No way was she wire-jacking her suit into an untrusted wallcomp. She used her implant controller to ping the building’s AI. Miraculously, it responded and accepted her series of access override codes.
Twenty seconds later, the light-ring displayed rainbow colors and emitted a short, cheerful tune. The multi-layered door plates irised open.
