The Forgotten Planet

Thanks to Philip’s donation to the Galen Castell expatriation fund, we weren’t shot out of the sky the second we arrived in the Servine-controlled system of Stellas. Our one-time business partner’s techies had monkeyed with the ship’s transponder, making us appear to be a Salarian diplomatic envoy. Even I don’t know how they did that. Ship transponders are sealed units with unique subatomic signatures. Sealed means no getting in, right? No backdoors, no pass codes, no access. Well, whatever they did, it worked because the orbiting garrison and the various local air traffic controllers spoke to us in respectful tones and left us to our own devices.

Which was great and all, but we still didn’t know where to go next. The problem with secret government research facilities is that their location isn’t advertised. Cracking armored government servers on alien worlds would be a fun challenge with infinite time and resources, but since we weren’t sure how far behind us Philip might be, we thought it best not to stay in this neck of the galaxy any longer than we had too. Which necessitated a new plan. The solution to which, was 100% on Vee. In my defense, I’d never heard of social media or online restaurant review aggregators.

Vee reasoned that government labs generally teamed with tenured professors from major universities. So, they’d be located in the same general area. And those great minds generally like to drink beer and eat fried food after a hard day of sciencing. Maybe even hook up with other drunk alma maters from other research facilities. And apparently people put a lot of personal information that’s technically top secret – possibly while in a drunken stupor – into web-based applications with poor anti-hacking protocols. My algorithm found three separate labs that likely had what we needed within two hours of entering orbit. The lowest security lab was on the top floor a high-rise building on a southern island-continent in the city of Sambellie.

“Just stick to your roles and follow the plan,” Maxine said, as she cast a glance back at me and Adan.

Which was easy for her to say in her skirt-suit and pumps. Adan and I were the ones dressed like armored dinosaurs. In my vacuum-rated helmet, I could barely see a meter in front of me – which is a bad enough feeling under the best of conditions. On an air-deck a hundred stories up with the wind whipping and swirling around me and the building swaying slightly, it was absolutely terrifying. I was sure that at any moment I’d take a wrong step on the skinny glass walkway that led from the dock to the lab’s VIP entrance and go plunging to my death.

The helmet I was wearing just wasn’t designed for a human head. Lizards have long, snaggle-toothed snouts, and their skulls are more oblong than ours are. Unless I kept my head completely still, the helmet slid around uncomfortably, and usually ended up obscuring my vision. Even worse than that was the animatronic tail extending from the seat of my pants that hurt my back and kept me perpetually off balance. I had to keep my eyes fixed on the back of Vee’s boots to keep from tipping over.

“And don’t expand the scope of the mission,” Max added.

That last bit was almost certainly directed at me – and with understandably good reason. There was bound to be a lot of shiny baubles lying around just begging to be lifted.

“Yeah, and just be ready to make a break for it if this thing starts falling apart,” Adan added.

“The plan’s totally going to work gorilla-boy,” Veesil answered.

I had the calculation at 42% probability for success, so “possibly” or “perhaps” may have been a more honest assessment that totally. “I think we define our success parameters differently,” I said, which made Vee giggle. It’s so nice not having to explain geek-humor.

Max turned and glared at me, but the intensity was somewhat dissipated by the blast screen on my mask. “Vee’s right, we’ve got this.” She squinted at Adan who had fallen a few steps behind and asked, “Can you two pick up the pace?”

“Not without severely damaging my future reproductive capacity,” Adan said. He turned his snouted helmet in my direction and asked, “Is your armor a bit tight in the crotch little brother?”

“Obviously,” I answered, both because it was true and there was no way I was going to say my armor had plenty of room in the crotch. Salarians are more-or-less Velociraptor-shaped, with their heads tipped forward and counterbalanced in back by their thick tail. These anatomical details made their mocked-up hand-me-downs an uncomfortable fit for a species with pure upright posture.

“I bet it is,” Vee said, turning back to smirk and wink at me. At least no one could see me blush inside the helmet.

“Yeah well, lizard troops are grown in a vat,” Max said, “so they don’t have any need for extraneous organs.”

“You’ve never complained about my extraneous organs,” Adan said.

“Yeah, and you better keep it that way,” Maxine answered. “Now cut the banter kids. It’s just about showtime.”

We’d mercifully crossed the structurally suspect bridge and were now passing between a little rose garden on the right and a few wooden picnic tables on the left, under the canopy of a pair of red-leafed trees that looked like maples. The roses were in full bloom, with phenotypes ranging from bone white to deep violet. And to think, just two short generations ago, this planet rained acid and had oceans made of liquid methane.

According to the Depository, Lyonel is a Servine colony that initially started out as a terraforming project. The Servine had been in space for centuries longer than humanity, and they look a longer view when it came to colonization. The former ecological disaster was now a living world with a few large oceans filled with life, vast tracks of green forests and a thin but breathable nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere.

“I for one can focus and banter all at the same time,” Adan quipped.

“Well,” Maxine said, “unless you want to see how well you can banter with my foot up your ass, you’ll stay in character.”

Vee turned and looked back at me with her eyebrows raised and her lips in a big “O.”

A small knot of Servine scientists in white lab coats stood around gawking at us as we approached. I could tell by the averted gazes and hushed tones that they were nervous. Which meant our disguises were holding up so far.

I began to get that rush I always get when it’s time to run a scam – that potent mix of careful planning and raw adrenaline. This time Adan and I were just tagging along as the thinly veiled threat of violence – though if our survival came down to me and the borrowed plasma rifle I cradled in my unsteady arms, we were all well and truly screwed. This was Vee and Max’s show, and all I could do was wish them luck and hope for the best.

Beyond the scientists stood a set of sliding glass doors leading into the lab, and guarding the entrance were a pair of low ranking Salarian soldiers armed with assault rifles remarkably similar to ours. I was pretty sure I’d never seen troops salute each other, but I couldn’t remember if they nodded or grunted flipped each other the bird. I probably should have thought of that on the flight over, but Vee can be terribly distracting. I chose to ignore them since they were so enthralled in their raucous conversation that they barely glanced up at us as we approached.

One of the scientists separated himself from his little pack of nerds and gave us a target to focus on. He was tall, lean and gangly, in a lab coat and wire-rimmed glasses. He was holding a datapad in front of his chest in a way that made me think he wanted to hide his whole body behind it.

“Ah, yes, Commander...” the man started.

“Pax,” Vee answered brusquely. “Please step aside. We’re here to inspect your facility.”

Veesil was decked out in military whites that brimmed with medals and shiny bobbles. All the trinkets apparently meant something, but I didn’t know what. She looked important though. Max wore black-framed glasses, carried her own datapad and had her hair pulled back in a tight bun. She looked every bit the part of a ranking officer’s senior aide. The fact that she was human, while odd, wasn’t completely unheard of.

The man looked both confused and apologetic. He looked from Vee to his pad, then back. “But Commander, we don’t have any inspections scheduled today.”

“Since when are surprise inspections scheduled?” Vee asked incredulously, then held up a hand when he began to sputter an answer. She turned to Max and asked, “Maxine, how much extra paperwork will it be if we just have the guards shoot this man?”

I pointed my gun at the scientist for effect. He looked back at me with a panicked expression.

“What? Commander, please...” the man pleaded.

His own guards looked up and chuckled, then went back to their conversation.

Maxine peered at her pad before answering. She tapped it a few times.

“Maxine...”

“Yes ma’am. It would be quite a bit, ma’am.”

The man breathed out audibly. I lowered my weapon a little.

“Damn,” Vee said. “What about a transfer to a penal colony?”

Maxine tapped the pad a few times, then brightened. “That would be much less paperwork ma’am.”

“Good to know, Maxine.” Vee turned to the scientist, who looked like he would have loved to be anywhere else – except that is, for a penal colony. The other scientists were no help, as they all seemed to extremely interested in each other’s shoes at that particular moment. “What’s your name, little man?” Veesil asked. He was taller than all the rest of us, but that didn’t seem to matter at that moment.

“Leta Pez, ma’am.”

“Maxine, take his name down.”

“Already done ma’am.”

I was glad that my helmet hid my smile. Vee had her character down cold, and I was enjoying her performance. She was quite the actress, and that thought led my mind to possibilities that I feel no need to go into now.

“Mr. Lito,” Vee said carefully. “Should I write down in my official report to Vice General Tarver that you were a help, or a hindrance to my official investigation?” She looked towards the man with brows raised. Maxine leaned in, fingers poised on her datapad.

General Tarver was the man in charge of Servine applied technologies. Vee knew that much when she devised this plan. We assumed that his people inspected the various research outposts occasionally, and hoped that if we showed up unannounced in a diplomatic vessel – with Salarian troops in tow – that they would take us at our word. At least, I was 42% sure that they would. The other 58%? Incarceration, followed by various painful deaths. I held my breath as I studied the man’s face.

“I’ll help in any way I can, ma’am,” Pez answered earnestly.

Maxine nodded and tapped her pad furiously. I resumed breathing.

“I’m glad to hear that Leto. Now, please show me around your facility.”

“Yes, of course. He gestured at the sealed door, and it slid open in response. “Please, right this way.”

And just like that, the foxes were invited into the henhouse.