The Eridani Convergence (Carson & Roberts Archeological Adventures in T-Space Book 3) Read online

  She didn’t expect to hear from Jordan Burnside until tomorrow. Whatever her plans might have been for the rest of the day, they had just changed.

  CHAPTER 30: VAUGHAN

  Harp City

  “SO, YOU DON’T have Smith, or Smith’s contact, or whatever he was picking up.” Vaughan said, more calmly than he felt. “What do you have?”

  “We think we know where the artifact is, or at least his contact,” Mignon said, looking somewhat pleased with himself.

  “And how do you know that?”

  “We shot him.”

  “Say again?” Vaughan said, surprised. “You did what?”

  “We shot him with a tracking dart. Looked like it hit his abdomen. Unfortunately, it didn’t stay with him, we found it later in the street, with blood on it. Must have fallen out.”

  “Or he noticed it and took it out.” One of these days, Vaughan decided, he would have to have a serious discussion about subtlety.

  “Wouldn’t he have destroyed it?” Mignon said, no longer smug.

  “Maybe, but that would have confirmed to us that he’d found it. He’s probably smarter than that. If he found it, he’d either lead us somewhere else, or he’d warn his contact. Either way we won’t know where his contact is.”

  “Yeah, but if he didn’t notice it . . . .”

  “Then we might have something.” Vaughan didn’t think it likely, given the blood, but Smith might have assumed a regular bullet, so he couldn’t rule it out. “Okay, worth following up. Where about?”

  “A warehouse about a kilometer from the spaceport. One of the older ones, not that anything in this town is old.”

  “No.” Vaughan tapped out a sequence to bring up a map of Harp City on his desk display. “Show me.”

  Mignon zoomed in the map to the spaceport area, and gestured at a location near it. “Here. Wait a moment.” He tapped a command on his wrist omni and a bright blue line, with several turns and zig-zags, appeared on the map. “This is the path we traced from the beacon. We encountered him here—” he pointed to one end of the blue line “—then he went this way, away from the warehouse, circled around a bit to lose us, then back to this building, where he stayed for a while. Then he left and followed this part of the trail, still taking some random turns.” He pointed at the other end of the line. “This is where we found the beacon.”

  Vaughan examined the map. There were other buildings in the area which would have been largely abandoned at night. The place was largely a staging area for goods going to or from the spaceport, although there was also some light manufacturing and the offices and workshops of companies who did ship servicing and the like. Lots of places to hide, and while there were undoubtedly plenty of surveillance cameras, probably very few with the smarts to make real-time decisions about what they were observing. Mostly they would just record for later review, if there was ever any need to. Not a line of investigation worth pursuing, Vaughan decided, although he might want to ensure anything his men had done disappeared from any such recordings. He’d pass that on to his contact with the local police.

  Hiding the artifact in the plain sight, in a warehouse full of shipping crates or whatever it held, was clever. It also suggested that Smith’s contact had some connection with it, to ensure that the package didn’t arouse suspicion. Or perhaps it was clearly labeled and inventoried, but as something else. Like most of the outer worlds, there was little in the way of Customs duties or inspectors here. A few off-world luxury goods that could be taxed were about the only things they might worry about. Anything else was too valuable to a young colony to impede its inward flow, and since Tanith had had no intelligent natives, there were no alien artifacts to smuggle out.

  In that case, Vaughan thought, where did this thing come from? If not from Tanith, why was it brought here?

  He thought about the Zeta Reticuli system. They had encountered some strange things, but his and his crews’ memories were fuzzy on just what, and his ship’s logs had been tampered with. Of course, those things in themselves suggested a high technology level. Something humans had? Homeworld Security? Vaughan didn’t think so. It had to be aliens.

  The thought didn’t disturb Vaughan. Terraformers aside, he knew there were technologically advanced aliens around T-space somewhere, or had been in the not too distant past. The pair of FTL communicators the Velkaryans had were proof enough, and Vaughan had never bought into the whole religious, Church of Divine Stellar Providence, side of the Velkaryan movement. He just felt that the terraformed planets should belong to those capable of using them, which meant humans. If there were other spacefaring aliens still out there, well, they’d deal with that when the time came. Life had clearly begun on Earth first, at least the life on terraformed planets. If it had begun independently elsewhere, well then, let them find their own damn planets.

  “What do you want to do, boss?” Mignon said, interrupting Vaughan’s thought process.

  “Do? I want you to get that artifact, of course.”

  “Well, sure. But how?”

  That was the question. With his influence on certain people in the local government, could they help? A surprise customs raid on that warehouse? No, it would be too hard to come up with a pretext for that, and there were too few agents anyway. They might get lucky, but more probably it would just tip Vaughan’s hand.

  “Watch the warehouse and the approaches. Smith may try to reach his contact again tonight. Hack into the warehouse inventory and look for packages that arrived six or seven weeks ago, anything with an indication it’s going to be moved out soon—they wouldn’t have it buried under another pile of crates if so—and anything where there are just one or two assigned to a specific owner. Anyone importing or exporting enough to need warehouse space will probably be a company, and have a lot.”

  “Okay, then what?”

  “If you find something, let me know. But we’re going to want to get hold of it.”

  “You mean steal it?”

  “Steal it, bribe a guard, check it out with forged paperwork, whatever it takes. Use your imagination. Just get it. And keep me posted.”

  “Got it, boss.”

  CHAPTER 31: THE PICKUP

  Aboard the Sophie, Harp City Spaceport

  ROBERTS BROUGHT UP an aerial view of the surrounding terrain on her main console screen, then overlaid that with a map showing the man-made features. Harp City wasn’t much of a city as the name would have suggested, more a town, but a fair size with a population of perhaps thirty thousand or so. That was surprising for a planet this far out, the economy must be good. The system’s super-Earths must have some valuable resources in addition to whatever Tanith had. And it had a lot, she realized as she reviewed the data. To the southeast, the direction in which Carson would be landing, was not much. It looked like it bordered a broad swamp, and between that and the town was low scrub and some forest. Most of the surrounding farms were to the east and north. Obviously, Carson, or whoever was piloting his ship, had picked a place where his arrival would be less likely to be detected.

  That left Jackie with a problem. Taking up the Sophie and flying her out to get him would attract more attention than Carson wanted, given that he wasn’t landing at the spaceport. Even if Tanith didn’t have the air and space tracking systems to follow her flight—and it did, at least locally—she didn’t have a plausible reason for leaving the spaceport just for a joy ride. She studied the map again. There were roads—more likely dirt tracks—in that general direction, but nothing very close. A closer look at the aerial photos revealed the ground to be flat, and the small wooded area was not densely so. Ground transportation it would have to be. In fact, that flat area seemed to blend into what was wetland, a swamp perhaps. Time to modify the bike.

  Roberts went back to the Sophie’s aft compartment, where she had stowed her bike. It could be rigged with fold-down inflatable pontoons and aquajet propulsion for water work. Sometimes the only flat place to set a ship down was on a lake. Even as an amphibik
e it was no boat, but it beat swimming. She hardly ever used it. If she was on a charter and carrying passengers, they’d either arrange their own transport at their destination or squeeze a larger ATV into main cargo area. Squeeze being the operative term; Sapphires weren’t exactly cavernous.

  Either way, the amphibike would do to pick up Carson, so long as he didn’t have a lot of luggage, and it would raise fewer questions than flying the Sophie. She grabbed a tool-kit and set about attaching the rig to the bike.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Carson’s pod, entering Tanith’s atmosphere

  “Pod jettison in twenty seconds,” the computer announced. Carson felt the safety straps snug down around his legs and torso, pulling him back against the bed of the pod. He grabbed the handholds on either side of him. He didn’t know how rough a ride this was going to be, but those handles had to be there for a reason.

  “Ten seconds.”

  The “message” torpedo he was riding would be just above the atmosphere now, perhaps a hundred kilometers out and coming in fast at an angle, pretending to be a meteor. Carson thought he felt slight the slight tug of initial deceleration. The pod had no window, not that Carson had any influence on what he might have seen out of it anyway. It’s just a fast elevator, he told himself.

  “Five seconds. Four. Three—” The pod blew before the computer announced two; a psychological trick to reduce stress. Or perhaps, to induce stress and give the passenger—Carson felt victim might be a better word—an adrenaline jolt so they’d be ready for whatever came next. It certainly did that to him.

  The aft hatch of the torpedo blew off with a sharp bang! and a jerk that jolted Carson toward the head of the pod. Then whump! as the ejection charge at the foot of the pod shoved it clear of the torpedo housing.

  Then the relaxing, falling feeling of zero-gee. The computer announced, “Pod is clear. Deploying grid fins.”

  Carson exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Well, that was fun. The fins, currently folded flat against the side of the pod, would help stabilize the pod, adding drag and pivoting to help guide it. He heard some clunks and whines as they extended, and then quiet, only punctuated by the occasional short hiss of attitude jets. The air outside wasn’t thick enough yet for the fins to work.

  “Fifteen seconds to entry burn,” the computer said.

  Here we go again. Carson thought. A small rocket at the base of the pod would fire to reduce his speed and entry heating. About a minute after that, the pod itself would open up and—with any luck—his parachute would open.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Southeast of Harp City

  Jackie Roberts zipped down the dirt road away from Harp City, after a brief meandering tour through town to mislead anyone who might be watching her. She was beginning to take this spy stuff way too seriously. The feeling of speed was a nice change from the cramped quarters of the Sophie, even though she was barely crawling compared to Sophie’s normal flight velocity, let alone warp.

  She checked the map display on her omni. The road ran alongside a wooded area now; she should turn off soon. There was a spot. She slowed and turned off the track and into the trees. They were close together, but not so close she couldn’t drive between them, and for the most part the branches were high enough above the ground she didn’t worry about them. For the others, well, she was glad to be wearing a helmet.

  It occurred to her that she’d forgotten to check the guide for possible dangerous animals in the woods or swamp. She hoped that this was still close enough to town to have encouraged such to move away, or been thinned out by the locals. She patted her thigh to reassure herself that she had her sidearm, just in case.

  The trees became sparser and more scrubby-looking. The ground here was softer. She must be approaching the edge of the swamp. She brought the bike to a stop and checked her omni again. She was very close to Carson’s rendezvous point, although she didn’t know how accurate his coordinates were. It was just about time, too.

  She moved into a clearing near the edge of a shallow, weed-filled pool and scanned the sky, looking for his ship or landing craft. She didn’t imagine he would walk here.

  A brief flash and streak caught her eye. Was that a ship entering atmosphere? No, too fast, and at the wrong angle if it wanted to land here.

  She was still looking at the sky when, a few seconds later, the streak lit up again some distance farther away, then bloomed into a flash so bright Jackie had to look away. Wow, that was some bolide. She idly wondered if any of the meteor would survive to reach the ground.

  She blinked away the dazzle and checked her omni again. He should be here. She flipped the omni to telescope mode and held it up against the sky. Maybe Carson’s ship had used the meteor as a diversion. No, there was nothing. Wait, what was that? A movement on the screen caught her eye. She increased the contrast and panned around until she found it again. Was that a parachute?

  It was. And dangling beneath it was . . . Carson? Okay, that was unexpected.

  She watched him descend, putting the omni away when he was close enough to be seen directly. He was steering the parachute toward the swamp. She realized he was trying to avoid the trees, and might not realize that the flat weedy area was water rather than solid ground. He’d find out soon enough, and it wasn’t deep.

  She lowered the support arms on the amphibike and began to inflate the pontoons. He might need help. As the pontoons were inflating, she flashed a light at him. He either didn’t see it or wanted to concentrate on his landing, because he didn’t respond. A few moments later, he hit the water with a splash. Then she heard him cursing.

  Chuckling to herself, she mounted the bike and headed out to get him.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Carson pulled himself up out of muck, cursing. The water wasn’t much more than knee deep, but as instructed, he’d rolled when he touched down, not realizing in the dark that the wonderful clear area he’d steered toward was a swamp. He regretted now opening his visor as he’d descended; water had gotten in and was now trickling down his neck and chest.

  He removed his gloves and undid his harness buckles. He gathered up the ‘chute then reached up to take off his helmet. Once he lifted it off his head, he heard splashing and the whine of a motor behind him. He turned to see someone on an amphibike headed toward him. Jackie? In the light from the bike, he could see several scattered low mounds amidst the weeds. Nests, perhaps? Of what?

  “Hello?” he called to the bike.

  “Carson, it’s me!” Jackie called to him. “Stay where you are, I’ll come and get you.”

  “I’m fine,” he called back, and started to walk toward her.

  “Freeze!”

  “What? Why?” But he stopped moving. He had a sudden bad feeling about the mounds.

  “See those?” she gestured toward them.

  “I saw them. What of it?”

  “This is a swamp. Those look like alligator nests. I’m guessing this planet has crocodilians.” Most terraformed planets did.

  He unfastened the flap on the holster strapped across his chest. “You guess? You don’t know?”

  As the bike approached Carson, he saw several long shapes floating just below the surface of the water. They could be logs, but then one turned of its own accord and start drifting toward him.

  Roberts must have seen it too. “I know now,” she said. “It has crocs. Are you armed?”

  He pulled out his pistol and made sure there was a round in the chamber. “Yes.”

  “At your seven o’clock, ten meters back. Don’t fire unless it rushes you, it might set the others off.”

  Carson turned to look back over his left shoulder. “Others?”

  “Relax, just don’t act like a wounded animal.”

  He wondered what his parachute landing fall had seemed like. But he knew she was right. “This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with crocodilians,” he replied. Although he hadn’t actually been in the water that other time.

  By now Jacki
e had brought the amphibike close to him, as he stood carefully still in the knee-deep water. “Do you have bags?” she asked.

  “Just what’s on my back. Can we get out of here?”

  “Okay, come around to the back of the bike, between the pontoons. Great. Now, grab my shoulders and climb on over the back, left foot on the left pontoon first.”

  “Got it,” he said, holstering his pistol.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and stepped up as she shifted her weight to the right. “Keep most of your weight on me, centered,” she said.

  The bike rocked to the left a bit as Carson heaved himself up, then centered as he swung his right leg over the bike and sat on the pillion seat behind her. He took his hands off her shoulders and hesitated, wondering what to do with them.

  “Hands around my waist and lean forward,” she said. “How are our friends doing?”

  The splashing as he had climbed out had attracted their attention. Several more “logs” were drifting closer.

  “Like they want to be invited to the party, he said. “Shall we get going?”

  “Hang on,” she said, and revved the bike. It bucked as the aquajets kicked in, then slid toward the shore. Jackie heard several splashes behind them as the crocs made desperate lunges to catch their fleeing prey, but a few moments later she’d pulled the bike onto dry—well, less wet—land and stopped.

  “Okay, off,” Jackie said. “I need to retract the pontoons.”

  And Carson had just been starting to enjoy the ride.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  “By the way,” Carson said, as Jackie prepped the bike for the ride back to her ship. “I like this new look of yours. The tight jumpsuit and the leather jacket really work together.”

  “It’s practical.”

  “Sure. And the Queen of Diamonds motif? That’s definitely a new look for you.” He grinned.