“One-three-seven, Mark Neg One Dot One Five. Four AU.”
“Pilot,” the CO said.
“Coming to One-three-seven,” the pilot said, spinning the boat in place. “See it.”
“Engage.”
Runner didn’t exclaim as the boat slowed to normal space speeds. He just smiled thinly, then tapped the controls to call Dr. Weaver.
“Multiple moons, Commander,” Runner said. “Several big ones. Check out the take from Scope Two.”
Bill brought up Scope Two on his main screen, then tapped in the codes to take control, zooming in in disbelief.
“Sergeant?” Weaver said over the communicator. “Is that what I think it is?”
“I’m looking at the spectral data, sir,” Runner said. “Get this. O2, twenty-two percent. Nitrogen, seventy-seven percent. CO2 less than point zero one percent. High water content. Gravity about point nine two standard. Great world for Running, if you get my drift.”
“And I see red,” Bill said, grinning. “Class Four biology. Break out the red shirts!”
“I got movement,” Hattelstad said before the security team had even gotten into position. “Ten o’clock. Thermal and heartbeat. Fast heartbeat. Looks about the size of an antelope.”
The boat had set down near the ocean again, well east of the beach on a broad, gently shelving plain.
The plain was covered in wiry, thigh-high red grass-looking stuff that terminated in dunes. About five klicks to the east was the beginnings of forest of something like conifers. Beyond the forest, about two hundred kilometers away, mountains soared into a blue sky flecked with clouds.
Due to the surrounding coloration, mostly a crimson red, the armor had adjusted its surface and now was mottled in shades of crimson and pink.
“Take positions,” Jaenisch said, scanning the area.
“Don’t go into the long grass,” Bergstresser said. Much of the area looked to have been cropped but a stand of taller “grass” was near the boat’s port bow. “I’ve got multiple movement signs inside about ten meters. Big stuff.”
“Command, Charlie Team,” Jaenisch said after they’d completed their sensor sweep. “We’ve got multiple life forms.” As he said it, the creature Hattelstad had reported suddenly bounded into view. He didn’t get much of a look, but it looked something like a giant crab. But the legs moved… weird. And it was fast.
The crab-thing had darted towards the longer grass and as it entered there was a swirling and the external mike picked up shrill screams. The movement quickly settled down with a ring of heat forms gathered around where the crab thing had stopped.
“No signs of intelligent life but be aware that there may be predators in the area.”
“Damn,” Miller said. “When do we get to crack the Wyverns?”
It looked something like California before people screwed it up. It looked a lot like California except for everything being bright red. Miller had spent enough time in Diego to know that. Checking his external temperature readings and doing the math, he got an outside temperature of seventy-two degrees Fahrenheit.
“A while,” Weaver said as the science teams spread out, still wearing their own armor. “This is a more dangerous environment than Titan because it looks so Earth-like. And just because we know we can’t eat the local food, the predators don’t. For that matter, while we haven’t found a disease, even in Bio One environments, that can infect humans, there’s always the first time. We don’t want to be the guys to spread purple creeping fungus.”
“Now this is more like it,” Julia said as she stepped out of the elevator. “Did you see the report on megafauna?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bartlett said. “I also saw the report on possible predation. We need to take this very carefully, ma’am.”
“We will,” Julia replied. “We’ll start with a ring toss and see where it takes us.”
“I wish we’d landed in the mountains,” Dr. Dean said, frowning.
“As you say, Doctor,” Runner replied. He had the portable drill rig over one shoulder and was keeping a careful eye out for threats.
“We’ll see if we can get through this soil with that,” Dean continued. “No telling how deep it goes. And, of course, Dr. Robertson will appreciate the tillage sample.”
“Yes, sir,” Runner said.
“Here will do,” Dean said, getting about seventy meters away from the boat to port.
Runner set the drill rig down carefully as staff sergeant Kristopher dumped the spare pipe somewhat less cautiously.
In a minute the rig was set up and started drilling.
“I think I see an outcrop over there,” Dr. Dean said. “Sergeant Runner? You see it?”
“Yes, sir,” Runner said, dialing up the zoom on the Wyvern. South of the boat there was a small rocky promontory.
“I’d like to get some samples,” Dean said. “You and Kristopher can run the rig. We’ll put in seismic monitors on the way.”
“Sir, that’s outside the security zone,” Runner pointed out.
“I’ll be fine, Sergeant,” Dean said. “That’s what the armor is for, right?”
“Sir, we don’t know the nature of the threats in this area,” Runner replied. “And if you leave the security zone without permission, the captain will ground you, Doctor. Let me get with Captain MacDonald and see what we can do, Doctor.”
“Very well,” Dean said, exasperated.
“He wants to what?” MacDonald said.
“It’s the only rocks around here, sir,” the master sergeant said patiently. “And it’s also a good observation point. You want to kick it up to the boat CO?”
“Negative,” MacDonald said. “Watch your ass, Master Sergeant. I want everyone back alive.”
The captain switched frequencies and looked at his locator system.
“Tony, detach one team to screen the geo guys again,” he said, punching in the point that Geo was heading for. “Make sure they take point this time. Tell them to watch their ass.”
“Charlie team. Geo is moving to marked point. Screen on point. Platoon is redeploying in support.”
“Okay, why do we always get grapping point?” Hattelstad asked. “First out of the grapping ship, always screening grapping Geo…”
“Luck of the draw,” Jaen said. “Now shut up and keep your grapping eyes open. We’re going into the long grass…”
“Where’s Charlie going?” Weaver asked interestedly.
“Charlie, Miller, where you going?” Miller asked.
“Geo wants to go check out those rocks about a klick away, Chief Warrant Officer,” the Marine team leader replied, pinging the location on Miller’s map system. “Guess who gets to nursemaid.”
“I’m in on that,” Weaver said. “But does the CO know?”
“Not sure,” Miller admitted.
“I’d better get permission,” Weaver said disgustedly.
“Welcome to the chain of command.”
Random botany sampling is one of the more tedious jobs in the universe.
The simplest method in an open grassy area such as the area the boat had landed in was to simply toss a one-meter diameter ring over the shoulder. Then the one-meter area was more or less scoured, all the plant and animal material inside being collected and sorted.
Do this ten or twelve times and you have a bio sampling of the area.
“Tell security that if they shoot anything I want it,” Julia said, down on the knees of the suit pulling up grasses. “Tell them to try not to chew it up too much.” She paused and held up the selection of grasses. “Hmmm. That’s odd.”