“I wouldn’t mind it so much if he just wouldn’t sing!” Red screamed.
“ANNA GADDA DA VIDA,” Weaver screamed, his eyes closed and grooving to the music. “ANNA GADDA DA VIDA. ANNA GADDA DAVIDA! ANNA GADDA DAVIDA — ”
He started at a tap on his shoulder and clamped one hand over the guitar strings, pulling out an earplug.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Sir,” Gants said diffidently. “I’m not sure you’re aware of how loud that is at the base, sir. With all due respect…”
It was one of those command moments, a moment when an officer has to decide what sort of leader they are. Do they take into account the needs of their people? And if so, to what extent? Do they choose to be loved or hated and feared? An officer on independent command has God-like powers of life and death. Are they to be Patton or Bradley? Spruance or Nimitz? Nelson or…
“Message received,” Bill replied, putting the earplug back in. “Call me if there’s an emergency. There’s a lady who’s sure, all that glitters is gold…”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Oh, thank God we’re away from that,” Lance Corporal Ken Smith said. The moment the Marine team stepped into the corridor, the sound of the continuing concert cut out.
“I don’t mind being in rock concerts,” Sergeant Tye Day admitted. “But the XO’s just about good enough for a warm-up band, not the main show.”
“Playing’s not so bad,” Lance Corporal Ruoff, looking at the deck of the cylindrical corridor. “I just wish he wouldn’t sing. So how do these things work? Floor looks solid to me.”
“They said you just walk,” Day replied, taking a tentative step. “That didn’t take me far,” he added, beginning to walk.
“Uh, Sergeant?” Ruoff said. “Wait for us.”
Day rotated his sensor pod and saw that he’d already advanced thirty meters.
“Cool. Okay, we’re supposed to go in for fifteen minutes or until we see something odd,” the sergeant said, looking at the luminescent walls and flexible flooring. “Whatever ‘odd’ means around here. Keep your eyes open for threats. Let’s go.”
“Sir,” Captain Zanella said over Weaver’s implant. “The first entry team is overdue.”
“Damn,” Weaver said, setting the guitar on the deck and standing up. “How long?”
“Only five minutes, sir,” Zanella replied. “But it was to be a fifteen minute penetration.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“If they’re not back in another fifteen minutes we’ll have to find out why,” Bill said. “We’ll take the rest of the platoon and set in a retrans system. Drop Wyverns along the way to maintain commo. One team in the lead.”
“Permission to lead that, sir,” the first sergeant said.
“Granted, Top,” Zanella replied. “I’m wondering what got them?”
“They could have poked the wrong button for all we know,” Bill said.
“Captain Zanella,” Gunnery Sergeant Vankleuren said over the company frequency. “I’m picking up scattered transmissions from the team.”
“Retrans,” the CO snapped.
“…it’s to the left!”
“Right!”
“Damnit, Sergeant, I’ve seen this same intersection four times now!”
“Well, if you have a better idea of where we should be going, Lance Corporal, just be clear about it!”
“I am! Go left!”
“Day,” the CO snapped. “What happened?”
“Sir… This place is a maze…”
“According to our inertial systems, we were barely three hundred meters from the docking bay, sir…”
“Inertial systems aren’t going to work on the slidewalks,” Weaver said dryly. “They damp inertia. You could have been ten klicks away for all you knew.”
“I tried to maintain a comprehensible route, sir,” the sergeant continued, miserably. “But there were forks, by my estimate, every twenty meters or so. I stayed on the right-hand fork for a while but then the guidance system said we were going back to the docking bay so I took a couple of lefts and then…”
“You got lost,” Captain Zanella said sternly. “So much for spatial awareness, Sergeant.”
“Sir, there’s no landmarks in there,” Day protested. “And with the way that the slidewalk works, there’s no feel for where you are.”
“This is going to be a problem,” Bill said. “I can see the sergeant’s point.”
“Ball of twine,” Miriam said.
“Probably the only solution,” the XO acknowledged. “But do we have that long of a ball of twine?”
“You mean, lay down a string behind you?” Captain Zanella asked. “There are the safety lines for the Wyverns. They’re monomolecule lines but they’re only about eighty meters long. We’re not going to get far with just those.”
“Hook a few together,” Bill said, shrugging. “See if there’s a way to mark the turns. Space tape sticks to this stuff. Work it out. I’ll be down the platform…”
“And tape…” Lance Corporal Strait said, slapping a square of space tape on the left-hand wall as they turned left at a fork. “Any idea where we’re going, Sergeant?”
“If I knew that, Strait, I’d be a genius,” Lyle replied. “But so far nobody’s found anything but corridor. There has to be something at the end of…”
“Whoa,” Corporal Hamilton said as the corridor debouched into an open area. The circular chamber was about twenty meters across and filled from deck to overhead with glowing crystals. Like the walls, the crystals fluoresced in a waving pattern of pastel colors. There was another opening to the side, presumably going to a similar corridor to the one they’d just left.
“Okay,” Lyle said. “We found something.”
“But what?” Weaver asked, touching one of the crystals, lightly. “Miriam?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” the linguist replied, walking through the crystals. “Power system? Living quarters? A computer? There does not seem to be any defined pattern to their layout; they almost look randomly spaced… No… There’s a pattern but I think it’s… I’ve seen it before… I think I can see the equation…”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Bill said. “Captain Zanella, keep a team present while Miss Moon investigates this… anomaly. I’ll be back at the platform…”
“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,” Miriam sang, cross-legged on the floor and surrounded by equation filled papers. She was sure there was a reason for the layout of the crystals, but every energy system she’d considered didn’t fit. And when she was severely puzzled, she either had to play music in the background or sing. Since she didn’t have her MP3 chip with her, singing was the only choice. “That saved a wretch like me…”
“Ma’am!” Staff Sergeant Danny Robbins said over the comm. “Ma’am!”
“What?” Miriam asked, breaking out of her reverie.
“Damn,” the staff sergeant said. “It stopped. That crystal you were leaning against just started to light up. Light up more, that is. It was sort of pulsing. I’d suggest you move away from it.”
“Send me your recording,” Miriam said, standing up and backing away from the pillar.
When she saw the video of the pillar of crystal pulsing she cocked her head to the side.
“How long had it been doing that?” Miriam asked.
“Not sure, ma’am,” the sergeant admitted. “We were watching the entrances. I just turned around to check on you and it was pulsing like that.”