Chapter 91: What's an Excavation Site?

  Donna, Eva, and Yosip sit together in the Ship-Mother's office. The usual pile of data tablets is missing though each holds a comm tablet in their gray hands.

  For the first report from the scientific survey team, Donna wishes to have support nearby. A sensible precaution, though probably unnecessary. The remote team is quite capable, especially under Donna's command.

  "We've touched down near the artifact," explains Zsuchus from the main screen. "The others are building a shelter overlooking the site."

  "Any problems?"

  "No, Donna. The Matron sent a squad of her own security to help protect the site against tampering."

  "Have you found the entrance yet?"

  "No, Ship-Mother, not yet."

  "That's too bad," comments Eva. "Have you found anything interesting you can tell us about?"

  "Maybe. Grita has a list of equipment she's decided is vital. I'll send it to you."

  A subdued chime rises from Donna's tablet. "Got it, thanks. I'll review it and see what's available first. Bucket might have to fabricate a few parts and won't be happy."

  "Yeah," answers Zsuchus with a shrug. "I expected as much."

  A dark crested female wearing a command uniform walks through the background. It's good to see Joa again. She carries a crate of foodstuffs in her arms on her way to the temporary supply dump.

  "Is that the future Matron I see?"

  Donna digs one of her elbows into Yosip's middle. He grunts at the impact and smiles. His shining metal lower jaw makes the expression into a grimace. The wrinkles around his lenses soften the effect somewhat, to those familiar with him.

  "Who?" Zsuchus turns around briefly. He waves at Joa before facing the camera again. "Oh, Joa. Yeah, she's in charge of the security team," he explains through a grin.

  Eva frowns but nobody seems to notice beside myself.

  Some preternatural awareness causes Yosip to ask, "Can we get a list of the personnel assigned to your project?"

  This time, it is Eva's tablet that chimes. When she receives the data file, she transfers copies of it to the other two. I snag a copy for myself.

  Second Operative Joa Mell, of course, and five others. The first four names on the list mean nothing to me, but I recognize the last. Spen Dondrik.

  The other three look over the file as well. Assorted frowns and grimaces look up from their devices, startling Zsuchus.

  "Is there a problem?"

  "No," answers Donna quickly.

  "Better not be," mutters Eva darkly.

  Zsuchus glances between the two females uncertainly. "I've met some of them. Oolian's a great guy. Is this because of his history?"

  Oolian? The security personnel list includes an Oolian Dags. I have to access the planetary information network to learn more. The delay is slight but aggravating. Longer than it should be due to the recent disruptions to the planet.

  It seems Oolian is on Honus as punishment. Caught selling restricted technology to primitives without permission on his last assignment, his file notes that he should not be able to get in as much trouble on a developing world. It confounds me that Matron Bell would trust him for this assignment.

  After a moment of contemplation, I believe I might understand her reasoning. If the Tserri suddenly gain new capabilities it would be no great threat to the Matron. Despite the standoffish nature of her relationship with the Tserri, Matron Bell seems to truly wish them no harm.

  Additionally, Kalibern acts as a first defense for Honus. The Tserri being more capable only guarantees greater protection for the planet below.

  By giving Oolian an opportunity to betray her, Matron Bell can also learn just how loyal the disgraced operative actually is. Any other considerations must wait, as Zsuchus speaks again.

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  "Fren says he found something. I have to go."

  "Keep us informed," replies Donna with a short nod.

  "Can do."

  The screen goes dead when Zsuchus terminates the communication. Donna breathes out heavily.

  "You're doing fine," offers Yosip, standing up. "Both of you. If that's all you needed me for, I'm going to go find that rascal of mine and head back home."

  The small group exchanges farewells and the heavily augmented officer leaves the office.

  "Your thoughts?"

  "Well," begins Donna. "Zsuchus is doing well." When Eva smiles slightly Donna rushes on. "But I'm concerned that Spen is so close to this."

  "I thought we were rid of him," agrees Eva. The newborn smile dies upon her face.

  "Is there anything we can do about this?"

  "Don't growl at me," Eva says defensively. "The Grand Matron outranks us both, so no. We just have to be ready for him to start more trouble and deal with the consequences on our end. Think of this as your first real test."

  Donna snorts derisively but doesn't contradict her leader. Her eyes narrow to dangerous slits, however. I almost wish that Spen were in the room with them. The battle would be an enjoyable sight.

  "Alright. If that's everything, I need to get back to work," announces Eva.

  "Thank you for your time, Ship-Mother," Donna replies stiffly. She makes a quick exit from the room.

  I don't think Eva even notices, already digging out the hateful tablets that consume so much of her energy. Electronic lighting shines up onto her thin, gray face.

  Once out in the hallway, Donna mutters, "Can you believe that? Unreal!"

  It may be possible that she's talking to me. I reply softly from her suit speakers. "He has to work somewhere. And he has shown a surprising command of security procedures."

  "Rrrugggh!" Donna strikes the stone wall with her upper claws. "That bastard better not mess this up for me!"

  "Calm down, Donna. Spen isn't even in charge of the security attachment. What harm can he do?

  She turns, deep gauges in the rock face behind her. Dust clings to her gauntlets. "You're right. I need a drink. Can you check on Skint for me, and if he isn't at that stupid casino, send him to the Blind Chief."

  I do as she asks. The large Tserri is in fact at the casino, but I let him know his presence is requested at the bar. Scooping up the colored dice, he prepares for another throw. He ignores me until I inform him that it is Donna that wishes his presence.

  "Gotta go," he exclaims hastily to the others at his table.

  The dice drop from his grasp and land upon the table. If he had waited but a few moments more he would have seen all three dice display the same red and green faces. Each die points inward. A good throw.

  The other gamblers jeer, unhappy to lose such an easy mark. Skint runs through the gambling hall, armor gleaming in the tacky lighting, unheeding of the jibes hurled his way. I've never seen the heavily muscled Tserri move quite so quickly.

  Hurrying or not, Skint takes the time to stop at an open-air shop that sells fresh plant matter. He leaves several credits lighter, clutching modified leaves in his claws. The tasteful red coloration and cupping shapes bob as he weaves through the crowd, bouncing upon the dark green stems he holds so firmly.

  I hope they enjoy themselves.

  Yosip passes not too far from the pair, only a mawful of tunnels away. There he seeks Han. The youth is supposed to be scouting among the orphans. The young Tserri believes that they would make fine recruits to help at Sba City. If Han can convince the street children to leave their freedom, then training them will become his responsibility.

  When Yosip finally locates the youth, he finds Han speaking with a pair of brothers. Both are smaller than Han, perhaps younger but definitely less well fed. They wear dingey station casual whose color is unidentifiable under the layers of grime.

  "Well imagine that! You got two of them. That's two more than I expected," teases Yosip.

  The orphans glare with matching orange eyes. The smallest Tserri growls low in his throat, but Yosip only chuckles at the implied threat. The dark furred pair are nothing the experienced officer cannot handle.

  "Bron and Bran," answers Han proudly. "They're pick thieves."

  One metal hand seeks his belt pouch unconsciously. "Good ones?"

  "The best," brags the small thief.

  His claims may be correct. While records exist of the two's schooling, there are no arrests upon the files of either brother.

  Yosip shrugs, feigning unconcern. "I'll have to ask Bruen how his people feel about thieves before we bring these two back with us."

  "Don't bother," I announce from Han's suit. "Thieves are tolerated until they're caught. Then they cease to be thieves."

  The young thieves jump at the sound of my voice, but Yosip only chuckles. "And then what do they become?"

  "Soil."

  The smile disappears from his scarred face. "Then we can't bring them."

  "But Yosip!"

  "I said no," begins the gray officer but I speak over him.

  "These two could be useful, if you can control their behavior. Make sure they only steal from approved targets, for instance."

  "Yeah!" Both Han and the smaller of the brothers cheer. The medium sized youth remains silent. I realize that I have yet to hear him speak. Yosip must have the same thought.

  "Is this one alright?"

  The younger brother answers quietly, "Bron don't talk anymore."

  "Doesn't or can't?"

  Bron opens his mouth wide, revealing that his tongue is but a stump. It sits forlornly, almost hidden behind twin rows of gleaming fangs.

  "Can't," confirms Yosip, anger coloring his voice. "Who did this to him, Bran?"

  Bran shrugs in the way that Tserri do. "Don't worry about it."

  Bron smiles grimly, then pulls one claw slowly across his throat.

  "We took care of that ourselves," confirms Bran. "Back on the Learned Stalker." His brother nods his dark head.

  Yosip's metal jaw hangs open for a moment, but he quickly gathers to himself his accustomed dignity. "I guess I can use you two. Go get your stuff, if you have any."

  Both thieves spread their empty claws wide at the same time.

  "Fine. Let's go."

  The four of them make their way to the primary docking tower. There they meet with the three robed thaumatists. Zek animatedly recounts a joke to the other two dust eaters, something about a dancing battle shell and a dead chief.

  "Zek, I've got a job for you," says Yosip, motioning with his metal chin at young Bron. He still seems upset, but he keeps the emotion firmly under control.