Page 21 of Galactic Search and Rescue
Rylando stopped himself from rolling his eyes, but just barely. “I’m not a telepath. Neither is she. The airsled’s comms are still as dead as the lift coil. I’ll need my earwire.”
Po turned his glare on Pelvannor. “You’re thebáichiwho threw it away instead of keeping it. Find it!”
Even though stoic Pelvannor didn’t react to Po’s insults, Rylando felt a moment of sympathy for her. She had an even worse boss than he did, and that was saying something.
Po’s perpetually outraged attitude reminded Rylando of his favorite fantasy adventure serial, where the emperor’s evil daughter could never understand why the universe didn’t dance at her command. Supporting characters who told her as much often had tragically short lives.
After a few moments, Pelvannor came back and handed Po the earwire. He examined it, then tossed it to Rylando. “Route the audio through your percomp. Call your partner. No subvocalizing.”
Rylando adhered it to his jaw and tapped to connect, then spoke aloud. “Subcaptain, give me a sitrep, please.” He hated hearing his own amplified voice.
Taz didn’t answer. Hatya wouldn’t unless she thought he was talking to her. It wasn’t yet time for check-in.
After several long moments, he tried again. He shook his head. “I can send a ping–”
Po interrupted. “Try again!” His face flushed in anger.
Rylando kept a tight rein on his temper. “The subfloor is incalloy and denscrete. It’s probably blocking the signal.” Rylando didn’t mention the possibility that Taz couldn’t answer because she was hurt or worse. Stramlo was barely hanging on as it was. Hearing his daughter might be in trouble might push him over the edge.
Po stomped his foot. “Goddamnit!” The next thing Rylando knew, Po was aiming a stunner at his throat. “I fucking hate liars!”
Pain filled Rylando's world. He scraped off the super-heated earwire as he fell to his knees, jerking like a stranded fish. Grimly, he rode out the agony, knowing if he collapsed, he might crush Otak. Knowing the rat might not survive the stunner spillover.
* * *
Taz ran a brief scan to confirm that the Kem-X package she was looking at was the same as the last fourteen.
At least now, the thick walls and armored floor made sense. So did forcing Stramlo, who likely had explosives experience from his mining engineering job, to help destroy the node. What still didn’t make sense was why.
Galactic civilization lived and died by data. The Concordance’s net boasted multitudes of ways to keep and recover data on its five-hundred-plus member planets. Millions of deep-space comms relayed it across civilization. Even newly opened frontier planets had three or four hypercube nodes. Long-settled planets had dozens. Destroying just one made no sense.
Perhaps the act itself was the message. Revenge against the town, or against the famous politician who’d called it home, or a grievance with the galaxy.
Right now, she had more immediate problems. She fast-walked back to where she’d left Jhidelle and the animals in their crates.
No way to phrase it diplomatically. “I think the whole facility is wired with explosives.”
Jhidelle sat huddled in her coat between the crates. Her eyes rounded. “What are you going to do?”
Taz stepped out of her suit and crouched down to face the girl. This conversation was too important to have barriers between them. “That depends somewhat on you.” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder toward the rows of equipment. “In the good-news column, the timers are powered, but they aren’t counting down. The packets all look uniform and straightforward, meaning they can be disarmed. In the bad-news column, if the spacing and placement hold true, there’s enough Kem-X to launch the entire town into orbit along with the building. Also, just because the timers aren’t running now doesn’t mean someone can’t change that.”
Jhidelle’s expression darkened. “Someone like Po.” Her eyebrows lifted in realization. “That’s why he wanted my father.”
“Probably.” Taz was glad not to have to broach that subject. “Time isn’t our friend right now. Our choices aren’t good, either.” She held up her thumb. “Option A, we go back to the lift shaft and wait to be rescued. Captain Wa’ara will start searching for us there.”
Moyo suddenly stood up in her crate and started whimpering. One of the cats yowled. Shen stood, ears pivoting, nose working.
Even as Taz was about to ask, Jhidelle’s eyes jittered momentarily. “They think Subcaptain Delroinn is hurt.”
Taz shoved her feelings in a box. “How bad?”
“Give me a minute.” The girl closed her eyes. “Tzima’s vision is bad, but I think Po is holding something like it’s a hand weapon. My father is sitting on something. The Subcaptain is on his knees, bent over, hugging himself, shaking his head like he has water in his ears. Po is saying ‘another lie, and I’ll stun you again.’” She opened her eyes, her expression a mixture of concern and anger.
“Po is an asshole.” Taz spat. “Stunners hurt like fire, but they’re not lethal. It’ll disrupt Delroinn’s minder talent for a bit.” She pointed to the crates. “Could you help his team understand that he’s not hurt bad but can’t talk to them right now?”
Taz could see Jhidelle’s success when the animals began to quiet down.
Determination settled on the girl’s face. “What are our other options besides waiting for your pilot?”
