Rylando tapped his earwire. “Did you find a place for the shuttle?”
“About that,” replied Hatya. “I know you really need a third, but I have to fall out of line for this operation. I’d probably be the one needing rescue.”
Concern shot through him. Jumpers thought of themselves as invincible. That Hatya was taking herself off the front line meant she was seriously compromised. “Your leg and hip again?”
“Yeah. Too much sitting, I guess. Even if I used the cargo lift frame we brought, my new cybernetic controller might lock up. ‘Improved version,’ my ass.”
He hated hearing the thread of guilt in her tone. “We’ll be fine. Just a quick in and out.” Or so he hoped.
Taz chimed in. “Considering the town probably doesn’t have many undamaged flitters right now, I bet they could use the shuttle and your skills.”
“Okay, I’ll ping Yanoshi and volunteer. Keep in touch.”
“Copy that,” Rylando replied. “We’re green-go here. See you soon.”
Chapter 3
Salamaray Citizen Activity Center, Perlarossa • GDAT 3242.334
Taz led the way into the building because her armor was better than what the airsled offered Rylando and the animals. Since the building’s AI answered most of her queries with “please try later,” she ran every scan her suit could manage the moment she cleared the meter-thick walls. Being buried alive under a failing roof would absolutely ruin her day.
The architectural schematics labeled the long, narrow empty space beyond the wide entrance as the Grand Foyer. She took it as a good sign that all the interior lights, not just the emergency lights, were on. Functional life-support systems were always a bonus.
While connected to her suit, she didn’t need to tap her earwire to talk to Rylando over their GSAR secure net. “My scans say this end of the structure is sound. Lifesigns are clustered in an area leased to a business called Eye-Fire-Mind. The doorway in the northwest corner of this room should be a hallway that leads to it.”
She switched on her top torch and aimed it toward the hallway. Dust swirled in and out of the light beam, suggesting the ventilation system was still working.
“My scans say the same. Let’s proceed.”
Turning to her right, she crossed toward the target hallway. “That’s odd. In this part of the building, at least, my scans say the subfloor is made of incalloy.”
“Yanoshi did say it was built like a fortress.”
Taz made a rude noise. “Starships need incalloy for transit space. Space stations need it for the gravity layer. Terrestrial buildings in small towns don’t need incalloy anything.” She snorted as she stepped over a pile of glass that might have once been a sculpture. “Unless RSI installed it so they could run up the settlement debt.”
He laughed. “You’re beginning to sound like Hatya.”
“She did send me… Oh, hell, the hallway’s blocked.” She looked at the scan results. “Three interior wall units caved into the hall. At least it’s wide enough to maneuver in. Ceiling is tight. Floor is solid. I can clear it and you can follow, or we can look for another way in.” She couldn’t resist teasing him. “What are your orders, exalted Field Commander, sir?”
“Clearing it will be faster.” After a pause, he grumpily added, “And I’m demoting you if you keep calling me that.”
She grinned. “Yes, sir. I’ll make a note, sir.”
Stepping into the hall, she extended her straight forks and slid them under the first tilted wall. As she lifted it, she used her teke talent to clear material from the separation point to give it room to tilt inward, away from the passage. Thankfully, the rest of the wall units were just as modern and modular, rather than the monolithic, textured denscrete blocks that made up the exterior.
Mindful of the taller, wider airsled behind her, she kept an eye on the scans to make sure her actions weren’t causing unintended problems for her teammates, human or otherwise. The airsled had one bad coil and wasn’t as fast as it should be.
“Architectural plan updates just came from the town.”
She finished pushing aside debris. “Anything new about our search target? The building’s AI is still traumatized, I think.” The technical term was “crisis fallback state,” but to her, its disoriented responses sounded like when humans went into tunnel-vision survival mode.
“Yeah, the space used to belong to a financial firm. Looks like our lifesigns are together in what used to be a four-meter-square datavault. Multiple air vents. Used to have its own chiller, but that might be gone now.”
“Good shelter in an earthquake.” She pulled in the updated schematics to look for herself. “Left at the upcoming intersection, then forty meters west to the door.”
“Concur. Proceed.”
One of the first things she’d noticed about Rylando was his similar respect for field safety and communication protocol without going overboard. It was a welcome pleasure to finally work with someone she synced with. And look at her, mooning over that someone instead of paying attention and doing her job.
Retracting her suit as much as possible to keep from scraping things, she stepped into the intersection and ran scans and visuals. “One more downed wall. Ceiling’s still stable. Just a cheap install job on the wall sections, I think.”
“Probably. Based on the number of overlays and changeouts on the plans, the interior has been reconfigured dozens of times since the local government moved out.”
“I wouldn’t rent here even if it was free. No natural light at all, not even piped in.” She lifted the wall up and tilted it out of the way. “Clear.”
“Agree and proceed. Moyo smells recent human scents.”
“Good. Looks like the business has an external wallcomp for visitors. Want to try it, or barge right in?”
“Let’s knock first.” Wry humor laced his tone. “One trauma per day for them is probably enough.”
She moved farther down the hallway so Rylando could glide the airsled into position. He stopped in front of the wallcomp and pinged it, changing from his earwire to his suit’s amplified voice. “Hello. Subcaptains Delroinn and Correa from Galactic Search and Rescue. Do you need assistance?”
The response came fast. “Oh, hell yes, we need assistance. We’re stuck in the storeroom and the door is jammed. We’ve been here for six hours, no comms.”
The mid-pitched voice had a Spanish accent and sounded more peeved than panicked.
“They must have converted the datavault into a storeroom,” Rylando said to Taz, back on his earwire.
“How many people are with you, and is anyone hurt?” Rylando spoke into the wallcomp.
“We are six adults, one teenager, and one toddler,” said a softer, higher voice with a Standard English accent. “Instructor Nadryer broke her leg and cannot walk. Everyone else is well.”
Rylando nodded. “We’re outside your main entrance and are coming for you now. As a precaution, please get as far away from the storeroom door as you can.”
Taz stayed where she was as Rylando backed up the airsled a few meters, then grounded it, got out, and pointed toward the door. “I’ll get the med pack and team ready if you open the door.”