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Nero Engstrom worked away at his console alone in his office, feeling powerful, perhaps even omniscient. The undetected tendrils he’d sent into the Marine garrison’s node gave him an advantage over that insufferable major who ignored Engstrom’s more senior rank and his authority as the station commander.
If Delgado persisted in refusing to share his plans and findings — oh, he did it ever so politely, but still — Engstrom would obtain what he wanted via other means. Especially anything about the Evans matter. Delgado’s investigation was quickly turning a placid mining operation upside down.
He finally broke through the second level of protection and accessed the company’s personnel files, never wondering why they would bother loading them into their command post node.
“Interesting,” he muttered as Delgado’s file came up.
Contrary to the Marine’s claims he was recently promoted but left in place as company commander until his next posting was available, he’d been a major for some time and sent back to command a rifle company after prematurely leaving a more senior position. From what little the naval officer knew about the Corps, it could only mean Delgado either stomped on the wrong toes or screwed up sufficiently for a punishment tour but not enough for more formal measures. And he’d taken his sweet time reaching the rank of major in the first place after officer candidate school, which told Engstrom that Delgado wasn’t one of the Corps’ shining lights.
First Sergeant Hak’s career summary was equally unimpressive. Busted to private from buck sergeant once; not selected for a commission after four years as a command sergeant leading an infantry platoon; no special qualifications, just like his company commander, and many years as first sergeant, bouncing around from one assignment to the other.
After perusing the senior sergeants’ files, Delgado’s company seemed like a collection of sad sacks good only as garrison troopers. And as Sergeant First Class Metellus Testo, whose own faked record was dull, hoped, Engstrom swallowed every bit of it, chuckling to himself as he thought up ways of humiliating Delgado.
He scheduled another quiet evening meal with Movane and Limix and would again amaze them with his findings, especially the news Tyrell’s workers had nothing to fear from the Marines.
**
Delgado, astonished beyond words, stepped through the open doorway and into a smooth-sided chamber lit up bright as day. One by one, the other Marines joined him and became rooted to the spot as they gazed around open-mouthed.
“We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” H.L. said in a soft tone.
Predictably, the quote earned him a questioning “Huh?” from Singh.
“The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Early twentieth century children’s story,” H.L. replied, not making things any more straightforward for his section leader.
Singh knew when he was beaten and grunted. “You spend way too much time following in Colonel Decker’s footsteps and memorizing useless old sayings.”
“And you’ll note that it’s Colonel Decker these days, Sarge, when once upon a time, he wore the same lance corporal hook as the rest of us. Maybe memorizing trivia is what got him there.”
“All right.” Delgado raised a gauntleted hand. “Our time is limited, so fan out and scan.”
The tunnel section beyond the armored door was approximately twenty meters long by ten meters wide, twice the width of standard galleries. But instead of the faintly rough walls left behind by mining moles, these were slick, shiny, as if carved by a high-powered laser or subjected to the intense heat of a nuclear blast.
The tunnel ended with another closed door. However, this one bore as little resemblance to the one they’d just cracked open as the first biplanes to modern dropships.
Besides the far door, the most notable feature was a small elevator base unit adding a bump to an otherwise straight wall. It was recognizable as a human construct, like the armored door, and Delgado gestured at Singh.
“Make sure you check out the lift with exceeding delicacy, Sergeant. Let’s not activate it since we don’t know where it ends.”
While the Marines, battlefield sensors in hand, carefully scanned each square centimeter of the tunnel, Delgado headed for the slick gray door, which screamed alien to his experienced eyes. He’d been on enough non-human worlds to develop a clear sense of what was manufactured by his species and what wasn’t, and this one gave off an awfully familiar if strange vibe.
The small elevator base unit proved that someone human from the station worked down here. But nowhere was this section mentioned in Tyrell’s database. Testo hadn’t even found traces of an extra elevator shaft, distinct from those serving the mine galleries, which meant its upper terminus was well hidden.
“Mystery is another name for our ignorance,” Delgado muttered, studying the strange door’s surface.
“Pardon, sir?” Sergeant Singh asked.
“Never mind. Just something I remembered from one of the old books Colonel Decker donated to the regimental library.”
Lance Corporal Lee let out an amused chuckle.
“I guess the major is bucking to become a colonel as well. Another wise man said, if you go directly to the heart of a mystery, it ceases to be a mystery and becomes only a question of drainage. If you’ll step aside, sir, I’ll work my sensor magic and see if the mystery of this door will drain away.”
Delgado stepped to one side and reminded himself he was a tourist while watching his Marines work under Singh’s direction. But it proved in vain.
The inner door resisted attempts at analysis. They found no apparent locks, no release mechanism, and no hinges. The sensors picked up a large space on the far side but couldn’t say what, if anything, might wait for whoever found a way through.
Only the elevator shaft revealed a few of its secrets. It was a simple anti-grav cage in what seemed like a perfectly straight borehole leading upward, presumably to the station’s inhabited modules. It drew power from a pair of contact strips lining the borehole. Those strips, in turn, were connected to a small portable fusion unit embedded in the elevator’s base, which, judging by the cable, also fed the force field emitters. The lift cage was currently resting at the bottom of the shaft, though they found nothing to indicate when it was last used.
Delgado fought back the temptation to send Singh up with a few troopers and find out where it ended, figuring the upper terminal would be monitored and locked. They could easily calculate the probable location by plotting their current position and assuming the shaft was absolutely straight.
“I guess we’re done here, sir,” Singh finally said.
“Yep. Let’s head for home and run your scans through the tactical AI.”
“Spooky, though, isn’t it?”
“You got that right, Sergeant.”