stayed out of her way as he tossed the sensor remote into the air and let it baseline the area around the shuttle.
The air had a strange smell, but every new planet did. It’s what happened when you got away from industrial air–processors and let plants and oceans clean things. It was also cool, a sunny day low on the horizon, so either spring or fall, depending.
Javier dialed down the sensitivity on the remote and pushed the scan range out as far as it would go. The original wreck was about six kilometers northeast, tucked up in a small valley drained by a creek. In another twenty minutes, he would have a very detailed map about halfway out. The rest would have to wait until they got around some hills for direct scanning.
There were quite a few creatures nearby, four–legged animals that seemed to be the local version of elk or antelope. Javier turned and located Sykora in the organizing mess of landing. Once more, just because. “Hey,” he called, “any chance I can have a sidearm for protection?”
The look he got in return could have smashed a glacier. Javier suddenly understood the term ‘staring daggers.’ “You’ve got me,” was all she said in reply.
Well, then. All–righty. Javier opened his field pack and put on a floppy hat.
Javier found a landing skid that was cool enough and plopped down. He pulled a screwdriver from his kit and opened the side of the portable. When nobody was paying attention, he palmed the chip that had Suvi on it and plugged her into the side of the little computer. It was going to be a tiny shoebox compared to the castle she was used to living in, but it was something. And he could use somebody to talk to right now that he didn’t want to see hung from the highest yardarm in space.
Javier muted the speakers and waited. She didn’t take long
Where am I?
Javier typed quickly on the rudimentary keyboard. This was not a conversation to have while surrounded by the bad guys listening in.
Pirates caught us. Trashed the ship. I hid you. You’re plugged into the sensor drone’s command portable. They don’t know about you. Keep it that way. JA
He couldn’t imagine she liked the idea, but there wasn’t much she could do.
Where are we?
Campeche 7, still. Wrecked starship nearby they want to loot. We have to help.
They’re pirates!!!
And we’re not dead. Survival first. Vengeance later. Promise.
Javier figured it was a draw. Hopefully, Suvi would listen for a while and understand where they were. Having her available just doubled his chances.
And now, the mucking in the mud part.
Unlike all the hard–edged military sophistication around him, his gear was, beyond the sensor remote, decidedly low–tech, almost stupidly so. A magnetic compass. Matches. Pencil and paper for hand–made maps and notes. He did have a small knife, but it was made from a steel alloy and sharpened on a stone. It didn’t even vibrate or have a laser–cutting edge, or a mono–molecular razor–sharp blade. Just a knife.
Javier pulled out a nifty little plastic hiking trinket he had picked up years ago. It had a very cheap magnetic compass, a thermometer, and the symbols you should make in the dirt in an emergency, for people searching for you. He clipped it onto the outside of his jacket and marveled. Way better impulse buy at a feed supply store than any candy bar had ever been.
Around him, Sykora’s troopers prepared to invade Guatemala.
Javier sat quietly, daydreaming until a tree suddenly cast a shadow over him.
“Are we boring you, Aritza?”
Javier looked up at the ogress, scowling down at him. Maybe honey today, instead of vinegar? What the hell. “No ma’am,” he said with a grin, “trying to stay out of your way while your crew organized itself. We ready?”
He was rewarded by the scowl lessening, warming by perhaps a whole degree Kelvin. Nitrogen might melt soon at this rate.
She stepped back, rather than lurk over him. “What’s the terrain look