Keystones: Tau Prime Read online

  Calm shook his head as though he was clearing away cobwebs. “Yes, yes, sorry. I was far away. We have scans of the surface. It looks as though it should be safe. Tempest is small enough that I should be able to shield most of her hull from any form of damage, especially if I sit in the middle of the shuttle.”

  Deklan said nothing, but he didn’t like any plan that relied on a Keystone trait.

  Unaware of any reservations on Deklan’s part, Calm continued, “I want to launch in half an hour. You’ve gone over your EVA drills, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Excellent. Then you have time to review the data from Exo. We’ll christen it once we get down there.”

  Deklan hazarded a question but kept his voice non-confrontational. He still didn’t have a good read on Calm. “Isn’t this a bit hasty? Shouldn’t we study the planet for just a little while?”

  Calm stopped walking. “History is not made by timid men, Mr. Tobin. None of the great explorers had the advantages that you and I do. Do you want to go down in some dusty tome as the man who was almost famous, or do you want to be remembered for time immemorial as a bold adventurer?”

  Deklan had no desire to be remembered in history at all. If simple reasoning wasn’t going to work with Calm, Deklan had to go along for the ride. “Put like that,” he replied, “I think it’s time to see what this planet has to offer.”

  Deklan pressurized the seal on his EVA suit. Made of a tough white fabric, the suit fitted over him like a second skin, allowing for nearly perfect freedom of movement. It was a little stiffer in the neck area but made up for it with a wide-open faceplate that could be reflective or transparent.

  Calm had finished his preparation minutes earlier, a silent and effective testimony to his level of comfort with the gear. He waited for Deklan aboard Tempest.

  Deklan wondered how searching for Susan had resulted in his being one of the first to explore an alien world. He pushed his thoughts aside as he walked to Tempest. There was nothing he could do to change things for now.

  Tempest was a small craft, about ten meters long, which was ample space for a two-man crew. She was designed with sleek aerodynamic lines and large fusion engines for use in an atmosphere. There were side hatches on the port and starboard sides, but only the port hatch was open. Deklan could see Calm sitting in the pilot’s seat. Although his faceplate was opaque. he yet somehow still looked impatient.

  The port hatch started to close before Deklan had finished walking through it. Calm was obviously eager to depart. Deklan took a moment to look at the interior design. A series of indentations in the floor indicated that the craft had been outfitted with more seats until recently. Calm probably had them removed because they were only a four-man crew aboard Serenity. Despite Tempest’s small size the cockpit and passenger area were separated, but the door to the cockpit was open.

  Deklan hurried to his seat and strapped himself in. The view from the cockpit was exciting. It was only of Serenity’s shuttle bay, yet Deklan knew that he was about to see so much more. Suddenly he was caught up in Calm’s excitement. They were about to explore a new world.

  “Serenity,” said Calm, “we are go for launch. Repeat. We are go for launch.”

  Jonny’s face filled a screen, jealousy written large on his features. “Shuttle bay interior doors sealed. Doppler Bubble Drive disengaged. Opening bay exterior doors.”

  The doors from the shuttle bay to space opened, sliding into recessed pockets. The doors were large and thick, with heavy interlocking teeth that meshed when closed.

  “Tempest, you are go for launch,” confirmed Jonny.

  Calm’s hands were steady as he placed them on the controls. “This is it, Mr. Tobin.”

  The shuttle came alive. Deklan could feel the muted vibrations of the engine as they lifted off from the bay floor and left Serenity.

  Stars spread out before them, the wormholes but purple pinpricks in the distance. Calm took them out past Serenity and then just hung in the vacuum over the blue planet. Both land and sea areas on the orb were brilliant shades of aqua.

  Calm’s voice no longer that of an excited schoolboy but held wonder all the same. “I hope that you have probes recording all this, Mr. Day,” he said. With that Calm shifted to full manual control and put the shuttle into a deep dive.

  They hadn’t discussed where they were going on the planet, but Deklan could see from the diagrams on the flight plan that they were aimed at a large island high in the northern hemisphere.

  Tempest shuddered as she encountered the planet’s atmosphere. Deklan was reminded of his disastrous first trip with Jamie and clenched his hands. Adding to the sensation of mayhem was the laughter coming from Calm.

  Powerful winds buffeted the small craft. Calm’s angle of descent was almost perpendicular to the ground. Deklan tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the terror from his voice when he said, “Calm, could we go down at a less suicidal angle?”

  “Ha! Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been cooped up for months. This is the first real fun I’ve had in ages.”

  Deklan held on to his seat and watched the numbers on the altimeter tick down. His already racing heart increased its pace when their elevation stopped being measured in kilometers and changed to meters. As they approached five hundred meters, Calm showed no sign of moderating their descent. All that kept Deklan silent was the lack of warnings or alerts.

  When they broke the five-hundred-meter barrier, red and orange lights flashed on the consoles in front of Deklan and Calm. Shortly thereafter an alarm klaxon sounded.

  Calm laughed again, a controlled laugh that started deep in the chest and conveyed real mirth, not insanity. He continued to laugh even as he leveled off their flight path.

  Deklan sagged back in his seat, only then aware of the sweat dripping through his hair. His heart was pounding like an angry drum.

  “Ah, it gets the blood flowing, doesn’t it?” said Calm, either unaware of or indifferent to Deklan’s worries. “The first time I did that my instructor nearly had a heart attack.” Calm sounded as though he were reliving a fond memory.

  “That’s so strange,” replied Deklan acidly. “Why would a descent like that bother anyone?”

  “Quite.” Calm’s voice ignored Deklan’s sarcasm but still held traces of his earlier amusement. “This is the first human craft ever to visit this planet. We had to make a big entrance. No choice really.”

  Deklan rubbed at his faceplate in lieu of rubbing his face. “If you say so. Where are you taking us down?”

  “There’s a mesa”—Calm looked down at the console—“thirty seconds from here. I like the look of it. We’ll plant a flag there.”

  The flag was a bit of a surprise to Deklan. That, he now realized, was what Calm had meant by a proper christening.

  “A flag?” exclaimed Jonny, listening in on the conversation. “You’re claiming the planet. Yes! We’re going to be rich!”

  “Do you always eavesdrop on your employers, Mr. Day?” asked Calm in his usual unflappable tone.

  Jonny didn’t sound embarrassed. “Only when it comes to matters of mission security and safety.”

  “I expect several glasses of Scotch on my return, Mr. Day. Very good Scotch.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jonny still didn’t sound penitent.

  “For Mr. Tobin as well.”

  Tempest finally descended to the ground in a careful spiral. This caution seemed out of place after the reckless atmospheric entry, but Deklan had no complaints.

  The slower speed also permitted him to observe the landscape. The shape of the land was normal enough, but what grew there was amazing. Aqua pillars covered the landscape like hairs sprouting from the planet.

  They varied in size and thickness. Some were short and squat, others tall and skinny, and a third variety was tall with a wide base that tapered toward a narrower peak. The highest pillars measured perhaps two hundred meters. The only constant was uniform color and lack of motion. Nothing grew among the pillars, and all was
still.

  Calm directed Tempest to a barren patch of land that rose above most of the pillars. He then reengaged the autopilot and let the shuttle settle gently onto the ground. “Ready to make history, Mr. Tobin?” he asked.

  Deklan left the cockpit and waited near the hatch, half-turned with his fingers hovering over the controls. “Do you want the distinction of being first?” he asked.

  “Yes, I would,” admitted Calm.

  Deklan tapped the controls, and they both heard a hiss as Tempest let in the alien atmosphere. Calm grabbed a pole that had eluded Deklan’s notice when he’d boarded Tempest, and he then strode through the hatch.

  The mesa they were on was over one hundred meters across, large enough to accommodate Tempest and a few more shuttles. Around them the tops of various blue pillars grew past the mesa’s summit. The rolling valley below was carpeted with them. This landscape of blue continued as far as the eye could see. It took Deklan’s breath away.

  Calm crouched next to a small pillar that shared the mesa with them. His gloved hands ran over it and caressed the surface.

  Deklan wandered in the opposite direction and was startled when a strong wind came close to bowling him over. A readout in the lower right of his faceplate showed a steep drop in temperature coupled with a rise in humidity. It was an odd environmental combination. There were no obvious causes for the sudden change, and he didn’t understand why the temperature around him had changed. Then it struck him.

  Calm was now seven and a half meters away. Deklan had left the protective bubble.

  Calm held the pole high above his head, perpendicular to the ground, and brought it down with great force. There was a crack as the pole crunched into the ground and rooted in place. A red, white, and blue flag hung in the still air, forlornly proclaiming ownership.

  Deklan tapped the ground with his foot. It was hard, and he was impressed that Calm had so easily pierced it. He knelt down to press his hand against the ground. It didn’t give at all.

  “Nice job with the flag,” said Deklan. “It’s a pity there isn’t a bit more wind. That would make for a more picturesque planting of the flag.”

  “Yes, it would, wouldn’t it?” Calm didn’t move, but the limp flag unfurled before it snapped into the air, rigid as a board.

  Deklan hadn’t known Calm could do that. Back inside Calm’s bubble he saw the readings on his faceplate return to a more human-friendly level. Deklan looked around the mesa again. “Uh, so what do we do now?”

  “I thought we’d walk a few hundred kilometers to get a feel for the planet and then split up for a few weeks.”

  Deklan looked aghast at Calm.

  Calm pointed with his hand. “How do you feel about trekking south?”

  “Uh. . . .” Deklan tried to think of something, anything, to say.

  Calm favored Deklan with a small smile. “Relax. I’m joking. We’ll get back into Tempest and perform a visual search of the planet.”

  Deklan let out a feeble laugh, more relieved than he could express. “That sounds great.”

  Without a backward glance Calm walked through the open hatch. His next words were devoid of his characteristic cool. “We have a problem. Prepare emergency protocols!”

  A blue pillar burst through the top of Tempest, hoisting the small craft into the air at her stern. Unlike the other aqua pillars, the new one was an electric blue with writhing lines of light under its surface. The pillar extended six meters below Tempest into the ground.

  Jonny’s confused voice came over the com system. “What’s going on?”

  Around Deklan more pillars erupted from the ground. He felt a vibration beneath him and dodged just in time to avoid the pillar. “Calm,” he boomed, “what’s the situation in there?”

  “We have a new field growing in here! Several systems are offline. I’m checking the engines now.”

  Suddenly the ground tilted under Deklan’s feet, and he slammed into a still growing pillar. It snapped, a blue liquid dripping from the severed ends.

  Deklan saw another pillar sprouting near Tempest. He ran for it, grabbed it, and let it carry him up to the shuttle. The growth was so fast that it was like taking an elevator.

  Deklan’s fingers tightened on the pillar as he got ready for his next move. “I’m jumping aboard,” he yelled. Deklan pushed off from the pillar and leaped into the air.

  He slammed against the top of the craft. Because it was covered in the slippery blue liquid that dripped from the pillar, Deklan was unable to get a grip and careened over the edge. He fell near the open hatch and twisted in the air in a vain attempt to catch himself.

  A hand from the opening caught his wrist. Deklan jerked to a stop, dangling from Calm’s hand.

  Deklan looked into Calm’s ice-blue eyes. Whatever surprise or worry had bothered him before was gone. Calm lived up to his name. A strong grip pulled him up and in. “I think it’s time to leave.” Calm slammed a fist against the interior. “We’re going to do some serious damage to Tempest, though.”

  Miniature blue pillars grew throughout the cabin like fine fuzz. They covered many surfaces and were expanding to more. Deklan felt them crunch underfoot. They were hard but brittle. A central pillar ran from the floor out through the ceiling. It was the same one that had lifted Tempest from the ground and started the disaster.

  Calm ran to the cockpit, and called over his shoulder, “Try to break as much of it as you can.”

  Deklan attacked the central pillar with a will, battering it with his hands. Its electric blue color had faded in the seconds since it had erupted from the ground. Unlike the other pillars carpeting the floor, it didn’t snap easily. Deklan tried to open the storage cupboards, looking for any tool that might help, but he was thwarted by little blue pillars, which had already sealed the cupboards shut.

  A roar sounded from the starboard side of the ship. “We have only one engine left!” shouted Calm.

  Tempest rocked and groaned against the pillar.

  “Break that pillar!”

  Deklan slammed a shoulder against the pillar. Pain tore through him. He felt as though he’d just tackled an iron statue. He shook himself and gathered his strength for a second attempt. As he hit the pillar again, the pain was even worse. He dropped to the ground but noted that a crack had formed in the pillar. With gritted teeth he regained his feet and prepared for a third pass.

  “Engine efficiency levels are dropping!”

  Deklan charged the pillar and felt it break under his shoulder. Collapsing over part of the pillar that lay shattered on the floor, he shouted, “Go! Go! Go!”

  The engine’s whine tripled in pitch as Tempest slid off the small section of pillar that still penetrated the floor.

  Deklan curled up into a ball and screamed. Fire lashed his shoulder; each breath was a torment. It hurt far worse than when he’d broken his shoulder before. Glancing at the injury, he saw blue shards sticking through his suit and into him.

  He went cold at the sight. Ice from his fear met fire from his pain.

  Above him the severed section of the pillar swung and fell from the ceiling. Deklan rolled aside as it crashed into the space where he had just been.

  He lay on his belly, struggling to focus through the waves of pain. He had to get to the cockpit. The cabin was compromised; it wasn’t going to be safe once they left the atmosphere. His suit also was compromised; he didn’t want to freeze again. His body was compromised; he didn’t want to die.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Fire and Ice

  Fire. It burned, and Deklan moaned.

  Ice. He shivered, cold sweat soaking his hair.

  His breath came in pants. His mouth was dry, his tongue swollen. His face froze and boiled by turns.

  “He’s waking,” said a voice. “We need the clamps!”

  Deklan was in the medical bay. Bright white lights stabbed down at him like knives in his brain. He flinched and moved his shoulder, sending fresh shockwaves of agony down his side and over his chest.
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  He lay on the surgical table surrounded by robotic arms poised just above his body. Around him were Jamie and Calm, still in his EVA suit. Calm’s hands were locked onto Deklan’s left side, holding him in place as clamps slid out of the table and anchored him in place.

  “Stay still, Deklan.” Jamie’s voice was low and commanding.

  A trio of robotic arms above his wounded right shoulder cut through the material of his suit, exposing the blue fragments sticking out of him. New arms with different attachments appeared. One gripped the fragments, and another cut into him.

  “Anesthetic,” Deklan tried to yell, but it came out as a parched croak.

  Jamie shook her head. “We can’t. We don’t know what’s in you. Now stay still.”

  Deklan swallowed his nausea and pain. “Hurry,” he urged.

  The gripping arm pulled. It felt as though molten steel was moving in his shoulder. The fragment refused to budge and stuck in place. Minutes passed as the robotic arms cut into him before the fragment yielded.

  Deklan’s eyes closed when he heard the plink of the fragment dropping into a collection pan. The pain was less but not gone. Deklan looked at his shoulder again. An army of smaller arms reached into the wound, each extracting a miniscule fragment and making him feel incrementally better.

  The battle between fire and ice abated. With long exhalations Deklan’s breathing became more normal, and he relaxed. This was pain he could manage.

  Jamie was staring at a screen that showed the blue fragments at an atomic level. They were silicon-based, a form of life that until now had been purely theoretical. Under magnification each fragment looked multifaceted and sharp. A simulation depicted the expected interaction between the compound and human tissue. The chemical interaction showed the tissue burning away.

  “There are hundreds of thousands of these fragments inside you,” declared Jamie. “How is it that you are still alive?”

  “I’m fine now,” said Deklan stoically.

  “No. We need to flush your system.”

  Deklan was afraid that she was going to say that. “Okay,” he replied. “Do it.”