The first sergeant delicately set the lab book on one of the rerighted tables and hooked open the front. He read it for a moment, then nodded, his machine gun tracking up and down.
“Supplementary log of HD 36951 Gamma Station forward base, Dr. Christian Moshier, Ph.D. Just in case anybody ever reads it,” he said softly.
1140: The main base was struck by what we think was a kinetic energy weapon. Several personnel were away from this base when the main base was attacked. Their condition is unknown at this time. Drs. Darren Hokanson and Matthew Sterret were working in the ruins. Dr. Charles Talbot was on the way back to the main base. Doctoral Candidate Deb Cutler was exploring a previously unmapped section. The other five of us are fine at this time.
1154: Dr. Kaye Roberts has volunteered to go to the surface. She is aware that in the event of an attack, the protocol is to destabilize the gate with a nuclear weapon. She feels that she can observe from a position just outside the tunnel in the event there is a rescue party. The rest of us have elected to remain, rather than try to beat the response. I was given a classified briefing that indicates that even with the gate destabilized there is an “alternate method” of response. I don’t know what that is but rather than risk getting hit by our own nuke we’re going to wait.
1214: Dr. Roberts has reported an unknown ship overhead. Video of the ship and its actions are on the main archaeology computer. The ship lowered under apparent antigravity power, fired downward using something like a laser and dropped down a probe. The probe might have returned to the ship with a body. Dr. Talbot was on his way to the base when the rock was dropped. It is possible that this unknown alien species captured him.
1217: The ship has left.
1321: Another shock indicated that the nuke has gone off and shortly afterwards we experienced enormous overpressure that severely damaged the airlocks. If we had any idea it was going to take that long we would have run for it. We have no reports from Dr. Roberts.
1333: Dr. Roberts has returned. Her radio was destroyed by EMP but she was not harmed. The inner airlock is repaired and Dr. Roberts has volunteered to lead a team to repair the outer airlock. Dr. Wilson has completed an inventory of supplies. We can hold out for forty days, more or less. The big question is the air processor. If it breaks down, we’re in trouble. But as long as there are no more attacks, we should be fine.
1423: Dr. Darcy Retherford has taken the watch at the front. Both airlocks are repaired. There was minimal atmosphere loss. Others have ventured up to the surface. The gate is visible as is the large crater around it. The radiation can be detected from the ridgeline. They really nuked the heck out of it.
1649: Another ship has been detected. It is much larger than the first. Video, again, is on the main archaeology computer. Everyone is inside except Dr. Retherford. We’ve set up an optical fiber system for communication to keep from broadcasting.
1652: Ship has landed in the valley. Small pods, similar to the one seen earlier, have lifted off from it.
1655: Dr. Retherford has retreated from the entrance when some of the pods approached. We’ve set up a truly inadequate defense. Dr. Roberts brought a pistol with her, something none of the rest of us knew until just now. We’re piling tables in the entrance.
1657: A camera Dr. Retherford left in the entrance has shown us the nature of our visitors. It appears that we’re about to be Dreen food. Last words all seem inadequate. Tell our families that we were thinking of them at the end. Dr. Roberts wishes to add to any military personnel who might someday read this her personal request that they ‘Get some.’ ”
“Well, that truly sucked,” Himes said, his gun tracking back and forth as he shook his head. “I think we’re about thirty-three days late.”
“I think I’d liked to have met Dr. Roberts,” Berg said. “A pistol-packing female archaeologist. Who’d a thunk it?”
“They got hit before we even got the word,” the first sergeant said. “But there’s a bunch of holes. I can see the air reprocessor being gone. It’s pretty apparent the Dreen picked up everything technical. But what do you get when you’ve got an air reprocessor, Two-Gun?”
“Think the Dreen took the air tanks?” Berg asked. “You don’t pump it straight into the room, you pump it into tanks as back-up. There should be a couple of honking big air tanks in this room.”
“Maybe,” Top mused. “Who can figure out how the Dreen think? Why’d they destroy the base then take half the day to come back and check things out? But look at the food supplies.”
Berg rotated his sensor bulb and looked at the food supplies. There was a pile of rations against one wall. They’d been knocked around and some of the cases had been busted open, down to some ripped packages of rations. But most of the cases were still stacked.
“The Dreen didn’t want to eat our food?” Himes asked.
“Use your eyes,” the first sergeant snapped.
“Damn, Top,” Berg said, wonderingly. “I didn’t see it. Sorry.”
“What?” Smith asked.
Berg walked over to the scattered yellow packets and pointed down. Several of them had been arranged into a cross formation. It was subtle, but very evident now that he’d noticed it.
“There’s a survivor.”
“Tchar, I need a blage.”
The Adari engineer’s quarters were the largest on the ship but barely adequate. Especially given the… stuff that filled the interior.
The Adar had been a technologically and philosophically advanced race when they encountered humans. By that time, they had managed to end intertribal differences and merge into a unified planetary government. Admittedly, it had taken some major wars to do so, but they’d done it and thereafter given up the long-drawn strife. Artistic, technically competent and religious, encountering humans had been an almost shattering event. Because with all their religion, science and philosophy, they’d never invented marketing.
The Adar were almost incapable of not buying anything that was advertised aggressively enough. In Tchar’s case he was a sucker for anything that was sold late at night, often on infomercials, for $29.95 plus shipping AND you get for FREE this solid gold-simulacrum…
And he carried it all with him wherever he went. In the case of the ship, packed literally to the overhead in his room. There was barely room for his bunk. Admittedly, his bunk was massive.
“Good God,” Weaver moaned. “Have you added stuff?”
“Why, yes,” the Adar said enthusiastically. Nearly twelve feet tall, with a flat, ducklike head, three eyes and back-curved legs, the alien was dressed in brilliant purple spandex shorts and a safari jacket. “I got a real bargain on a food processor! It slices—”
“Dices and makes julienne fries,” Weaver said as he entered. “My God, they didn’t bring back that finger-shredding monstrosity, did they? Never mind. I need a particle emitter. Not EM communications spectrum. It has to be able to penetrate through an LGB and then several meters of steel reinforced concrete and be detected by sensors on the other side of all that. It has to be man portable. It has to be capable of being turned on and off rapidly. And I need it in twenty minutes.”
“Oh, ask me for something hard some time,” Tchar said, whistling happily. “Coming right up! I’ll just take the iridium-192 isotope gamma ray weld joint tester and attach that to my magnetically spun industrial lazy Susan — I got two for one on those. Always a two for one value at Triple A Plus Industrial Warehouse Online!”
“Uh huh.” Weaver wasn’t certain, but he thought the Adar had smiled like an infomercial actor might have.