Page 12 of Galactic Search and Rescue
Pieces of the patterned ceiling littered the floor, especially near the dimly lit shaft.
Taz’s tone sounded in his earwire. “My scans say the decorative ceiling layer isn’t stable, but it’s thin. The denscrete above it is solid. I might be getting more lifesigns below ground to the west, but it could be echoes. The lift shaft is lined with more incalloy.”
The airsled’s results came back a moment later. “My scans confirm.” He was more inclined to agree with Taz’s theory about the settlement company running up the planet’s debt. It would have been cheaper to line the shaft with rainbow corundum crystals set in hand-wrought filigree.
He eased the airsled forward and grounded it. At his request, Moyo and Shen trotted over and jumped in the open side door. The two cats agreed to think about it.
Taz crossed straight to the shaft opening, crouched, and extended her shoulder camera array and floodlight pointed down. “Hello! Subcaptains Correa and Delroinn from Galactic Search and Rescue. Do you need assistance?” Her suit-amplified words echoed on the hard walls.
“Yes! I’m stuck down here. You must help my father, too!” The faint German-accented voice sounded like it might come from the teenage girl he’d seen in Moyo’s memory. He increased the sound detection on his console.
“Is your father with you?” asked Taz.
“No, he’s in the storage section. I hope. When the earthquake hit, the frelling lift took me all the way below the basement and wouldn’t move. When the wallcomp wouldn’t wake up and I couldn’t get comms on my percomp, I climbed to the top of the car and opened the service access. But I’m too short to reach the service ladder.”
Taz’s words echoed again. “Is anyone else with you? Are you hurt?”
Rylando brought up the holo image and readouts from Taz’s cameras. No wonder the girl’s voice had sounded faint. The shaft bottom, which should have only been five or six meters, was almost twenty meters deep.
A girl with intricately braided but dusty hair and light brown skin looked up. Her long-sleeved coat puffed out on all sides. He’d have thought it was too hot to wear for summer, but fashionable civilian clothing baffled him. In GSAR, he had a choice of formal military dress greys, rescuer yellow and red, or sleep pants. He wasn’t ever off-duty long enough to make it worth owning anything else.
“Not really. I fell on my butt when my belt broke.” She pointed to the bottom rung of the service ladder, well above her head, where a short length of strap still dangled. He gave her points for trying.
“Okay,” replied Taz. “Let’s get you free first. Then we’ll go for your parent. What’s your name?”
“Jhidelle Barallone. My father is Xolor Stramlo.”
Taz’s voice came through his earwire. “The sled will fit in the shaft with plenty of room to spare. You could fly her up while I climb down a few meters to see if I can get better readings on the lifesigns.”
“Do it.”
The lights flickered several times, then steadied. He couldn’t tell if it affected what should have been always-on emergency lights in the lift shaft. Current construction codes required bright lights with independent thousand-year power sources. No telling what a flagrantly corner-cutting settlement company had used a century ago.
Hatya’s tone pinged. “Silver Team status check. I’m a glorified autocab. Just dropped off medics and supplies at the ERC.”
As usual, thirty minutes went by fast in rescue situations. His percomp would have reminded him if Hatya hadn’t initiated the check-in first. He touched his earwire. “We’re good so far. Cleared our initial target. Six and a half lifesigns headed for the ERC and one evac capsule headed for the medics. No recoveries needed.”
“That’s good,” replied Hatya. “I hate cremation duty.”
“Sync that.”Rylando hated attending memorial services for the dead, too. They made him feel guilty for not having saved them. “We have detailed building scans to share with the ERC, too. Should help them with repairs.”
“Speaking of scans,” said Taz, “are you near enough to deep-scan from the shuttle? We think we might have multiple lifesigns in the basement, but it’s denscrete and heavy metal construction. We’re at the lift lobby now.”
“I’m already in the air. Be there in two,” replied. Hatya. “Meanwhile, I sent you as-built records and occupants for the building. No one can explain the power glitches.”
Rylando confirmed the new data and pinged acknowledgement as he watched Phobos and Deimos stroll across the lobby and jump into the airsled.
“Baskets,” he told his team, and reinforced it with the hand sign. They jumped into their respective crates without a fuss, though Phobos chose to stay with Deimos instead of going to his own. Rylando sent them all the mental equivalent of a quick pat of praise.
All the animals suddenly stood up. Phobos meowed and Lerox gave a low warning grunt. Mariposa, the little owl, woke and rocked side to side on her perch. Moments later, a low vibration rumbled beneath him. He leaned out the airsled’s open door and shouted, “Aftershock!” then closed it.
Taz scuttled back from the shaft opening and maintained her crouch. The walls swayed. More pieces from the ceiling dropped onto the airsled’s roof and the floor.
Six seconds later, the vibration and swaying faded to nothing.
Rylando sent reassuring thoughts to the rest of the team as he threaded his way past the equipment to the back. He opened Otak’s crate and gently slid the tense rat into the low chest sling he wore under the harness. The other animals would be all right in a few minutes, but Otak needed warm physical contact to climb out of his spiral of panic.
Outside, he heard Taz’s amplified voice. “Jhidelle, are you okay down there?” On the console’s display, holographic Taz rose to her feet and stepped toward the shaft, though not as close as she’d been before.
