Page 6 of Galactic Search and Rescue
He used to think animals were all he’d ever need. He wasn’t a top-level talent, but he could connect with just about any land animal in existence, though he preferred mammals and birds. In the last few years, however, he’d found himself longing for human companionship, too. Not just joyhouse visits for physical relief, but people he could talk to and laugh with. People he trusted to have his back. People he cared about and who cared about him.
Hatya’s ready friendship had already broadened his horizons. Taz’s engaging personality and easy acceptance of his animals—not to mention her sexy everything—had him dreaming of more.
But even if he miraculously dreamed up the right words to tell her, he would never speak them. A relationship would ruin both their careers. Taz took her military oath more seriously than he ever had. Besides, he had no idea if she returned his interest. Probably not, since she was a professional, unlike the rest of Unit 1051.
He selfishly wanted her to stay, but her minder talent and skills were too valuable. Whatever her previous sins, GSAR would soon forgive her. Which was why he hadn’t told her that Shen had an implanted controller that—if he reactivated it—Taz could connect to using her own. He’d disabled Shen’s to save her from being ordered around by the other team members, who too often treat their dogs like fur-covered animated toys. He’d guiltily come to realize Taz wouldn’t do that, but told himself it was better that way. Shen would be devastated when Taz left her behind for a better post.
“Hang on,” said Hatya. “Landing zone looks like a stacker fell off the building and dumped flitters everywhere. We’ll have to improvise.”
* * *
The slim white woman in a dusty russet tunic and shiny gold boots finished entering data on her tablet. “Eli! GSAR 1051 is here!” Her piercing voice made Moyo, who stood next to Rylando on the muddy, sodden grass, duck her head and rub an ear with her paw. He wished he could get away with doing the same. The hearing protection implant in his left ear was malfing, and he hadn’t had time to get it fixed.
The structure behind the woman was an upside-down recycling container with a crudely cut doorway. They’d placed it on what looked like a softcrete children’s playground area, which itself was surrounded by a two-meter-wide ring of permeable hardscape. Rylando gave the town extra points for a creative solution to the problem of no pop-up emergency-shelter domes.
The woman turned around and vanished inside, leaving Rylando, Taz, Moyo, and Shen standing in the hot noonday sun. Water shimmered everywhere. Apparently, the earthquake had ripped underground water pipes, which had flooded this part of town. The playground in front of them looked like a manufactured archipelago in a flat sea of soggy green.
Taz tilted her head to indicate the mountains that loomed to the northwest. The dust kicked up by the earthquake made them look foggy gray. “Planetary weather AI says the wind will pick up this afternoon. It’s been a very dry year.” She shook her head. “The last thing this town needs is a wildfire.”
He agreed. Unfortunately, disasters didn’t care what humans needed or didn’t.
A booming deep voice came from inside the container. “...get someone to cut windows for the cross breeze. We’re stifling in here.”
A big, burly man with brown skin even darker than Hatya’s and a wild shock of black and gold hair exited the doorway. He shaded his eyes from the sun, then strode toward them at the edge of the hardscape ring. “I’m Eli Yanoshi, Chief of Regional Law Enforcement. Your pilot said it’s just you two and your service anim…” He glanced down at the dogs, then did a double-take at Moyo. Though she wore an official GSAR harness and vest, her party-colored fur often startled people. “We’ll take all the help we can get.”
Taz gave him a casual salute. “That’s why we’re here.” She told him their names. “Are you still wanting us to check out the Citizen Activity Center?”
Yanoshi deftly tied his coils of hair in a knot on top of his head. “Yeah, like we said, we don’t have high-power extraction equipment. “A sour look settled on his face. “The CAC is built like a frellin’ fortress. Supposed to withstand anything up to a planet-buster bomb, but you saw the images. The two-story end collapsed like an exploration spacer on a chems binge. We hope to chaos that no one was in that part.”
“How many people are likely to be in the main part of the building?” Rylando tilted his head toward their shuttle, about fifty meters back on a buckled plascrete ground-vehicle parking lot. “Our shuttle’s scanners indicated seven or eight lifesigns, but the thick walls are interfering with the readings.”
“Dunno.” Yanoshi made a face. Behind him, the loud-voiced woman came back outside and headed their way. “The settlement company built it to be the town hall, but the government moved out decades ago. They lease some space for commercial use and run the rest like a commons. No one had reservations to use it today, but the private businesses have entry codes and can do what they want.”
“Still no-go on the ground-based comms,” said the woman as she approached, “but we’ve got satellite comms up. Pinging the outlying hubs now. Anything I should tell Planet Gov?”
“Yeah,” said Yanoshi. “Tell them to evac the medical center first. RSI built that one, too. Chaos only knows what kinds of corners they cut there.”
The woman nodded and went back inside.
Yanoshi brushed dust off the front of his tunic. “We’ve put out an area call for equipment. My husband is riding in on our farm’s excavator, but it’s a snail, and the roads are iffy. We can use it to start clearing some of the debris.” His lips tightened briefly. “And recovering bodies.”
“Are you doing okay?” asked Taz gently. “I’m guessing this kind of work isn’t exactly what you signed up for.”
Yanoshi blew out a gusty breath. “Yeah, I’m good. Family’s okay. Our greenhouses are a total loss, but we’ve got savings and insurance. Good thing my husband is a plant-affinity minder, or we’d probably lose the business.” He looked at Taz as if seeing her for the first time. “Thanks for asking.”
She nodded respectfully, then lifted her arm to show him the rugged GSAR gauntlet-style percomp she wore. “It’d help if you share everything you can about the Citizen, uh, the CAC. Architecture specs, use plans, access codes, infrastructure, occupants, the works. We know Perlarossa construction regs, but it sounds like the settlement company built the facility before they were enacted.”
Yanoshi lifted his arm to tap on his similarly styled gauntlet. “I’ll send what we have now and more as we find it. Unfortunately, because the CAC was supposed to be our designated emergency-relocation facility, it also housed the regional hub for comms. Data access is slow as an ice flow until we stand up a replacement. A lot of little towns around here rely on us for comms, too. Planet Gov—that’s Perlarossa government—is reallocating someone else’s backup unit for us.”
Rylando made a snap decision. “We have an extra standalone hub we won’t need. It’s old, but it’s got extra capacity and range. You’re welcome to borrow it.”
“Yeah?” Yanoshi’s eyes narrowed. “What’sthatgonna cost?” He blinked, then ducked his head. “Sorry, that was... It’s just that GSAR is part of the Citizen Protection Service, and we haven’t had… They don’t usually, er, share unless there’s something in it for them.”
Taz waved his apology away. “It’s okay. GSAR is outside the CPS’s core chain of command. Some days, we’re not fans of our agency, either. The hub is a spare. But we’ll need it back when we leave.” She twitched a smile at him. “Our boss gets a little salty when our tech doesn’t come back with us.”
“Deal,” said Yanoshi. “We should only need it for twelve, maybe eighteen hours at the most. Planet Gov promised to deliver ours by the end of the day.”
Shen bumped his knee. Rylando could feel her need to do something besides stand in the water and listen to humans chatter. “We thought we’d set up our temporary base on the Center’s front courtyard. Does that work for you?”
