He still couldn’t rule out the possibility that Stramlo and Po had more than just an untimely earthquake in common.
Movement caught his eye. Tzima, Jhidelle’s kinkajou, was now on top of the airsled. He was glad he’d managed to open a vent for her so she could slip inside the airsled’s cab, but now she was an added worry.
He cautiously reached out with his talent. Instead of encountering the animal’s mind, he felt the presence of another, stronger directive, directing her gaze. Jhidelle must be connected to the animal’s senses. The best he could do was ask Tzima to hide and hope the girl would take the hint. Po was the type to break or kill things to take out his frustrations.
Rylando wished he was a stronger minder, like Jhidelle apparently was. He’d developed training techniques to compensate, but they were no help now that he needed to connect with his own animals. To find out if Taz was okay. He’d been a rock-brain for not being more wary or paying attention to her instincts. If they lived through this, he planned to tell Bhayrip he’d ordered her into this mess. Otherwise, they’d both get demoted for going in understaffed and getting caught in criminal games.
After two more “what’s this” queries, Po jumped out of the airsled and stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at Rylando. “We need your partner in her mech suit. Get her up here, now.”
Rylando stopped himself from rolling his eyes, but just barely. “I’m not a telepath. Neither is she. The airsled’s comms are still as dead as the lift coil. I’ll need my earwire.”
Po turned his glare on Pelvannor. “You’re the báichī who threw it away instead of keeping it. Find it!”
Even though stoic Pelvannor didn’t react to Po’s insults, Rylando felt a moment of sympathy for her. She had an even worse boss than he did in Captain Bhayrip, and that was saying something.
Po’s perpetually outraged attitude reminded Rylando of his favorite fantasy adventure serial, where the emperor’s daughter could never understand why the universe didn’t dance at her command. People who told her as much usually had tragically short lives.
After a few moments, Pelvannor came back and handed Po the earwire. He examined it, then tossed it to Rylando. “Route the audio through your percomp. Call your partner. No subvocalizing.”
Rylando adhered it to his jaw and tapped to connect, then spoke aloud. “Subcaptain, give me a sitrep, please.” He hated hearing his own amplified voice.
Taz didn’t answer. Hatya wouldn’t unless she thought he was talking to her. It wasn’t yet time for check-in.
After several long moments, he tried again. He shook his head. “I can send a ping–”
Po interrupted. “Try again!” His face flushed in anger.
“The subfloor is incalloy and denscrete. It’s probably blocking the signal.” Rylando didn’t mention the possibility that Taz couldn’t answer because she was hurt or worse. Stramlo was barely hanging on as it was. Hearing his daughter might be in trouble might push him over the edge.
Po stomped his foot. “Goddamnit!” The next thing Rylando knew, Po was aiming a stunner at him. “I fucking hate liars!”
Pain filled Rylando's world. He scraped off the super-heated earwire as he fell to his knees, jerking like a stranded fish. Grimly, he rode out the agony, knowing if he collapsed, he might crush Otak. Knowing the rat might not survive the stunner spillover anyway.
Taz ran a brief scan to confirm that the Kem-X package she was looking at was the same as the last fourteen.
At least now, the thick walls and armored floor made sense. So did forcing Stramlo, who likely had explosives experience from his mining engineering job, to help destroy the node. What still didn’t make sense was the motive.
Galactic civilization lived and died by data. The Concordance’s net boasted multitudes of ways to keep and recover data on its five-hundred-plus member planets. Even newly opened frontier planets had three or four hypercube nodes. Long-settled planets had dozens. Destroying just one made no sense.
Perhaps the act itself was the message. Revenge against the town, or against the famous politician who’d called it home, or some grievance with the galaxy.
Right now, she had more immediate problems. She fast-walked back to where she’d left Jhidelle and the animals in their crates.
No way to phrase it diplomatically. “I think the whole facility is wired with explosives.”
Jhidelle sat huddled in her coat between the crates. Her eyes rounded. “What are you going to do?”
Taz stepped out of her suit and sat down to face the girl. This conversation was too important to let barriers stand between them. “That depends somewhat on you.” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder toward the rows of equipment. “In the good news column, the timers are powered, but they aren’t counting down. The packets all look uniform and straightforward, meaning they can be disarmed. In the bad news column, if the spacing and placement hold true, there’s enough Kem-X to launch this entire town into orbit along with the building. Also, just because the timers aren’t running now doesn’t mean someone can’t change that.”
Jhidelle’s expression darkened. “Someone like Po.” Her eyebrows lifted in recognition. “That’s why he wanted my father.”
“Probably.” Taz was glad not to have to broach that subject. “Time isn’t our friend right now. Our choices aren’t good, either.” She held up her thumb. “Option A, we go back to the lift shaft and wait to be rescued. Captain Wa’ara will start searching for us there.”
Moyo suddenly stood up in her crate and started whimpering. One of the cats began yowling. Shen stood, ears pivoting, nose working.
Even as Taz was about to ask, Jhidelle’s eyes jittered momentarily. “They think Subcaptain Delroinn is hurt.”
Taz shoved her feelings in a box. “How bad?”
“Give me a minute.” The girl closed her eyes. “Tzima’s vision is bad, but I think Po is holding something like it’s a hand weapon. My father is sitting on something. The Subcaptain is on his knees, bent over, hugging himself, shaking his head like he has water in his ears. Po is saying ‘another lie, and I’ll stun you again.’” She opened her eyes, her expression a mixture of concern and anger.
“Po is an asshole.” Taz spat. “Stunners hurt like hell, but they’re not lethal. It’ll disrupt Delroinn’s minder talent for a bit.” She pointed to the crates. “Could you help his team understand that he’s not injured but can’t talk to them right now?”
Taz could see Jhidelle’s success when the animals began to quiet down.
Determination settled on the girl’s face. “What are our other options besides waiting for your pilot?”
“Option B is to look for another way out of here. We’re lucky this facility doesn’t extend into the other section of the building that collapsed.” Taz blew out a loud breath. “Or the riskiest of all, and against every GSAR regulation, plus your father would probably kill me if he knew what I was thinking, Option C. Locate and disarm the Kem-X packets, then take option A or B.”
Jhidelle’s eyebrows furrowed. “How is disarming the packets riskier than hoping we get rescued? They’d still be there.”