Star Corps(104)

“We lose too many warriors,” Gal-Irim-Let said within the warm embrace of the Abzu. “And we are not holding them back. Still these Marines come.”

“Their weapons…” the Great Lord said, sighing. “Against such weapons…”

“We still have the mountain itself,” Dur-En-Mah pointed out. It was a senior controller in Gal-Irim-Let’s staff, a high-ranking drone, one of the lords of An-Kur. “We have destroyed several of their flying weapons. And soon their ships will be within our reach.”

“The Kur-Urudug is largely useless against the Marines that have already landed,” Tu-Kur-La pointed out. “And we have only warriors to throw at the Marines that have already entered the gate.”

“Those worry me,” the Great Lord said. “They may have the means of destroying An-Kur.”

“The Abzu has detected Divine Weapons among them,” Gal-Irim-Let said. “They are small but would do much damage.”

“We must stop them!” Dur-En-Mah exclaimed. “They must not be allowed to—”

“Peace, Dur-En-Mah,” the Great Lord said. “If they wished to destroy the mountain, they could have done so by now. I think they wish to learn An-Kur’s secrets.”

“But we should withdraw to a safe place,” Tu-Kur-La suggested. “If we withdraw, they may be deceived into believing they have captured An-Kur.”

“Sound strategy,” the Great Lord said. “Let it be done.”

ARLT Command Section, Dragon

One

Objective Krakatoa, Ishtar

1740 hours ST

“New passageway,” the voice said in Warhurst’s mind. He could see the scene in his noumenon—a high, narrow corridor with smoothly sculpted walls, intense darkness relieved only slightly by wan red lights. The sensors in Lieutenant Frayne’s helmet relayed the scene in rapid, uneven sweeps. “No one—”

The transmission was lost in a burst of static.

“Say again, Seeker,” Warhurst said. “You’re breaking up.”

“How’s this, Captain?”

“Much better.”

“The mountain’s blocking transmission, as we expected,” Staff Sergeant Krista Ostergaard’s voice added. “The relays work okay, but sometimes we have to face just the right way. The lieutenant was saying this looks like a new passageway but that no one’s at home.”

“Left at the next intersection,” Warhurst told them. “If the layout is anything like at Tsiolkovsky, that’ll be the control center.”

“Roger that,” Frayne said. “We’re at the intersection. Geez, are you gettin’ all this?”

The passageway was opening up now, with the left-hand corridor debouching into a huge, open chamber. The squad, designated Seeker, spread out, examining everything, weapons at the ready. Various sensors reported elevations in temperature, in magnetic flux, in radiation. The air was wet, heavy with steam. Some sort of organic matter—something halfway between jelly and mold—grew on most of the surfaces.

“Affirmative,” Warhurst called back. “What’s that wet goo covering everything?”

“Not in the IBB, sir,” Frayne replied, referring to the data base of Ishtaran life cataloged and transmitted to Earth by the First Expedition. The Ishtaran BioBook was far from complete. “Looks like someone’s not been taking proper care of the place, though.”

“This is definitely the control center, though,” Ostergaard told him. “I see touch controls here…and they match the Tsiolkovsky configurations.”

Seventy years ago, during the UN War, U.S. Marines had captured a long-dead Ahannu base discovered in the central peak of Tsiolkovsky, on the far side of Earth’s moon. The layout had been similar—except that the lunar weapon had been designed to fire antimatter beams. The two facilities must have been erected at more or less the same time…some ten to twelve thousand years ago.

“Roger that,” Warhurst said. “Plant the charge, Lieutenant. You know the drill. Set it for detonation on direct command, relay trigger, and tamper-trigger. Your team will stay in place until relieved.”

“Aye, sir.” The microthermonuke in Ostergaard’s backpack was swiftly mounted beneath one of the smoothly sculpted consoles, and Frayne and Ostergaard began setting the detonation triggers.

“Captain Warhurst,” another voice said, coming in through the tactical chat link. “This is General King.”

“Yes, sir.” What was the general doing calling a captain?

“I just heard you order the nuke set for tamper-trigger. What are your intentions?”