screen gave us the best possible chance at finding him. It appears that he's not there. I believe we have to conclude it is likely he's at the bottom of the lake."
"We're not there, either," Psycho pointed out quietly. "But that doesn't mean we're at the bottom of the lake."
"That's right, Snow Leopard," I added. "He could be under cover somewhere. Our camfax is damned good, and there are plenty of nooks and crannies out there. It would be only natural for him to get under cover."
"Nevertheless," he said, "we have to proceed on the assumption that he's gone. Unless we go to full power, there's nothing further we can do to find him. And if we go to full power, we're dead. Now, I can promise you we are going to go to full power, as our final effort to locate Beta Six. But the time for that has not yet arrived. First, we have a mission to accomplish. And we can't do that if we're dead."
We pondered that without comment. One was right—what else could we do? Chances were high that Six was dead. And if we stayed in the neighborhood much longer, we would be, too.
"We have to move out," One concluded, "as rapidly as possible. This is an extremely dangerous area. I consider it a miracle that we're still alive. Our antis fell right here. This was our primary target. Now, I've been getting fragments of info on the command channel, but it's so thoroughly shot by deceptors that I can't tell exactly what's happening. One thing I can tell, though—the assault is still underway. There are Legion units fighting their way through the Omni base, and that means they are inside the base, and under the lava. That's where we should be. Ten, report."
"Right," Redhawk responded. "The aircar station is located about sixty mikes below us. There are two personnel elevators and a freight elevator that should get us there. All still functional. Air and pressure full normal as well." His wild eyes flickered over the readings, shaggy red hair hanging over one eye. "There are two aircars on-site, but neither is in ready status."
"Why not?" Snow Leopard asked.
"Don't know," Redhawk replied. "I can probably get a status report if you give me a little more time."
"There's only two aircars?"
"The other bays are all empty."
Aircars! My blood stirred; we could all feel it. Priestess put down her drink. Psycho raised his head and blinked expressionless eyes.
"Can you get us a visual?"
"Affirmative."
"Not yet! Is this aircar garage a part of the starport?"
"That's a twelve. The launching ports open in the side of the caldera, right into the air, slightly above the level of the lake. The actual starport—or what's left of it—is below the lake, and launches of major spacecraft are probably made through a central launch tube that breaks surface when necessary. Landings would be the same routine. That's my conjecture." He scratched at his scruffy beard.
"And the starport—you can get me an internal visual of that, as well?"
"Ten high, Beta. Sure looks like it."
That one would knock us on our asses, I knew. An internal visual, on an Omni starport! The aircar control center was a Systie installation, but nobody—nobody—had ever seen the inside of an O starport, and lived to tell about it. My adrenalin was going again. I picked up a cold juice, and tried to get it to my lips without spilling any. It felt as if my muscles were just barely connected.
The datapak was on the console before me. My eyes strayed to the next entry.
1444/03/11 SS—We are doomed. We share it with no one, but we know it. Death stares us in the face, every morning. Our rotation times have come and gone, and still STRATCOM is on the screen making promises. The others believe. They have to believe, for the sake of sanity. But we no longer believe. Show your faces here, STRATCOM, and we'll believe you.
"Soldiers of Peace. We are slaves. We saw the V only once, and that was enough. Our whole body stopped functioning. At first we thought they were trying to kill us, but
"We're not there, either," Psycho pointed out quietly. "But that doesn't mean we're at the bottom of the lake."
"That's right, Snow Leopard," I added. "He could be under cover somewhere. Our camfax is damned good, and there are plenty of nooks and crannies out there. It would be only natural for him to get under cover."
"Nevertheless," he said, "we have to proceed on the assumption that he's gone. Unless we go to full power, there's nothing further we can do to find him. And if we go to full power, we're dead. Now, I can promise you we are going to go to full power, as our final effort to locate Beta Six. But the time for that has not yet arrived. First, we have a mission to accomplish. And we can't do that if we're dead."
We pondered that without comment. One was right—what else could we do? Chances were high that Six was dead. And if we stayed in the neighborhood much longer, we would be, too.
"We have to move out," One concluded, "as rapidly as possible. This is an extremely dangerous area. I consider it a miracle that we're still alive. Our antis fell right here. This was our primary target. Now, I've been getting fragments of info on the command channel, but it's so thoroughly shot by deceptors that I can't tell exactly what's happening. One thing I can tell, though—the assault is still underway. There are Legion units fighting their way through the Omni base, and that means they are inside the base, and under the lava. That's where we should be. Ten, report."
"Right," Redhawk responded. "The aircar station is located about sixty mikes below us. There are two personnel elevators and a freight elevator that should get us there. All still functional. Air and pressure full normal as well." His wild eyes flickered over the readings, shaggy red hair hanging over one eye. "There are two aircars on-site, but neither is in ready status."
"Why not?" Snow Leopard asked.
"Don't know," Redhawk replied. "I can probably get a status report if you give me a little more time."
"There's only two aircars?"
"The other bays are all empty."
Aircars! My blood stirred; we could all feel it. Priestess put down her drink. Psycho raised his head and blinked expressionless eyes.
"Can you get us a visual?"
"Affirmative."
"Not yet! Is this aircar garage a part of the starport?"
"That's a twelve. The launching ports open in the side of the caldera, right into the air, slightly above the level of the lake. The actual starport—or what's left of it—is below the lake, and launches of major spacecraft are probably made through a central launch tube that breaks surface when necessary. Landings would be the same routine. That's my conjecture." He scratched at his scruffy beard.
"And the starport—you can get me an internal visual of that, as well?"
"Ten high, Beta. Sure looks like it."
That one would knock us on our asses, I knew. An internal visual, on an Omni starport! The aircar control center was a Systie installation, but nobody—nobody—had ever seen the inside of an O starport, and lived to tell about it. My adrenalin was going again. I picked up a cold juice, and tried to get it to my lips without spilling any. It felt as if my muscles were just barely connected.
The datapak was on the console before me. My eyes strayed to the next entry.
1444/03/11 SS—We are doomed. We share it with no one, but we know it. Death stares us in the face, every morning. Our rotation times have come and gone, and still STRATCOM is on the screen making promises. The others believe. They have to believe, for the sake of sanity. But we no longer believe. Show your faces here, STRATCOM, and we'll believe you.
"Soldiers of Peace. We are slaves. We saw the V only once, and that was enough. Our whole body stopped functioning. At first we thought they were trying to kill us, but
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