Have Spacecat, Will Travel: And Other Tails by John Hartness (best color ebook reader .txt) 📗

was to mask their signal. Her signal, specifically, since it was the tracking beacon built into her leg that they needed to disguise. Not that it would matter, she figured. Not like the Gritloth didn’t know where their own stash was. “That ‘locker’ is almost a hundred meters square, and no telling what could be inside. All we know at this point is that it’s worth killing over.”

“What can we see, Skarper?” the captain asked, leaning forward in his chair.

“Not much, sir. There does seem to be a docking station on one side with an airlock, so I’m assuming there’s some type of atmosphere inside. My scanners can’t penetrate the structure, so we’d be going in completely blind. No idea what kind of reception we’d find.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Doc, Harmbo, come with me. Tenkor, you have the bridge. Let’s get the shuttle down there and see what all the fuss is about.” He looked over to Bek’ah. “Come along, stowaway. Let’s find out what all the fuss is about.”

An hour later, Bek’ah followed Tinbrak into the airlock on the Sniper’s shuttle, stopping in front of the hatch to the Gritloth storage facility. “Do we have any idea what the atmo is like on the other side?” Tinbrak asked into the comm on his spacesuit.

“Nothing I can gauge from this side,” Dr. Skarper replied. She held a small scanner out in front of her. “As soon as we get inside, I’ll know if it’s breathable.”

“Okay, then. Harmbo, cover me.” The captain walked up to the door as the Rincah hefted a laser rifle to his shoulder. Bek’ah pressed herself flat against the side of the airlock, trying to make herself as small as possible and really wishing she knew the air was good on the other side so she could have her claws out. This was one of those times that hanging from the ceiling looked like a really good idea.

Captain Tinbrak lifted a hatch covering the door controls and pressed a green button on the access panel by the door, then looked at the screen above it. Something flashed on the screen, but she was too far away to read it. He pressed the button again. There was another flash on the display, but the door stayed firmly closed.

“What’s happening?” she asked, her species’ infamous curiosity getting the better of her, as usual.

“Nothing,” the captain replied. “It says the access key is not detected. I’m looking for somewhere to input a key sequence, but there’s no keypad, or visible lock.”

“What if she’s the key?” Dr. Skarper asked. “Or her knee, rather. It gives off a tracking signal, maybe that same signal opens the door if it gets close enough.”

“The Gritloth followed that tracker through a Gate, but this door can’t pick it up from three meters away?” Tinbrak asked.

“I’m still jamming the signal, Captain,” Harmbo replied. “I rigged up a portable jammer in case we got out of range of the one on the ship.” He unclipped a small device from his belt and held it up.

“Can you turn it off?” the captain asked.

“Yes, sir,” the muscular communications officer replied. He dropped the box to the deck of the airlock and brought a heavy boot down on the jammer with a crunch. The device emitted a high-pitched squeal and spit out a few angry sparks, then went dead. “It’s off, sir.”

Tinbrak just stared at the ram-headed being, then let out a chuckle. “Damned, Rincah. You’re direct, if nothing else.”

“When your skull is as thick as ours, sir, you find that head-on is the best way to meet most situations,” Harmbo said with a grin.

“Fair enough,” Tinbrak agreed. “Now let’s see if that accomplished anything besides giving me a chuckle.” He turned back to the door and pressed the green button again. Something flashed across the screen, and the door slid open to reveal a second door. That one slid open in sequence, and Bek’ah peered around the captain’s shoulder to see into the storage facility.

“Stand back,” Tinbrak said, giving her a little push on the shoulder. He and Harmbo stepped through the door, laser rifles raised and sweeping the room. The captain peeled off to the right, bringing his rifle across that half of the space in front of them, while Harmbo came in and swept left, clearing the door and checking for attackers on that side. Bek’ah was surprised to see Dr. Skarper step up to the doorway with a laser pistol in her hand, scanning the center of the room for any trouble.

“Clear,” the captain called seconds later, echoed by Harmbo and the doctor. Skarper holstered her pistol and pulled out a portable scanner, holding it above her head and turning around in a circle just inside the door.

“Atmosphere is breathable. A little heavier on the nitrogen than we keep the ship, but nothing we’ll notice in the short term. You might feel a little short of breath if you exert yourself, but you’re not—there is about eighty-five percent of the oxygen you’re accustomed to. Radiation levels at zero, temperature is nineteen degree Centigrade, so it should be perfectly comfortable.”

“Comfortable to beings that don’t wear fur,” Bek’ah muttered. Nineteen degrees was fine, she was used to living a few degrees warmer than her preferred fifteen. By unspoken agreement, Dr. Skarper removed her helmet first, as the one who announced the safety of an environment was always the first one to get to test it. When she didn’t die, the rest of the team followed suit, and peeled out of their bulky spacesuits as well, Harmbo covering everyone with his rifle until they were ready, then the captain covering them while Harmbo changed.

As the Rincah got out of his protective suit, Bek’ah took a look around the facility, stunned at what she saw before her. “Oh dear Bast, what have those bastards done?”

“If I’m right, and I am, they’ve done exactly what you think they’ve done,” Dr. Skarper replied.

Stretching out from the airlock entrance, running at least