The Zygan Emprise: Renegade Paladins and Abyssal Redemption Read Online Free PDF Page B

Condition One was of the highest urgency. We’d better get a
move on. And fast.
     
    * * *
     
    Still in our costumes, we immediately
M-fanned to the warehouse on Hill and Alameda. Well, more
precisely, to the giant green garbage bin in the alley behind the
rundown building near Chinatown. Even more precisely, inside the foul-smelling garbage bin, where rats scurried from pile to
pile of malodorous, worm-ridden trash.
    I greeted the rats with a warm hello.
Chidurians are normally a gigantic crab-like species, from the
Zygfed planet Chiduri in the constellation of Orion. Their
universe-renowned fighting skills make them very desirable soldiers
and guards. When assigned to work Zygint Security on primitive
non-Zygfed planets and protectorates like Earth, however, they
often take the visible form of rodents of some sort to blend into
the environment and keep a lower profile. Fortunately, the spoken
Zygan language does sound something like a rat squealing, so any
intoxicated human staggering down the alley near the bin would
probably interpret their squeaky greetings as a rodent infestation
rather than a welcome.
    And, the worms? No, they’re just worms.
    We felt the warm light of the
WHO iv scan bathe us for a few
seconds before the metal wall of the bin facing the warehouse slid
open to reveal a dark corridor that automatically lit up as soon as
our feet stepped over the threshold. About thirty feet ahead of us
was a titanium door that whooshed open after we’d passed a second
WHO scan. We stepped into a small room and faced yet another
titanium door. The school of hard knocks, and the resultant
bruises, had taught us to grab the platinum railings that lined
this chamber before the door behind us had fully closed. We kept
our balance as the elevator started its death-defying drop with its
usual sickening rush (no relation). After six months of navigating
this gauntlet for Earth Core entry, I do so wish the impenetrable
shields that surrounded Zygint’s Core Station would allow us to use
our Ergals to transport in instead.
    A minute or three later, the front door slid
open to reveal the plasterboard walls and linoleum floors of the
main entrance. Once we were out of the lift, a more intensive NDNA
scan v cleared us quickly, and
triggered the drab industrial decor to transition into the
welcoming oak paneling and thick plush carpet of the Earth Core
Reception Area.
    Fydra, our Scyllian greeter, put down her
fur-brush and, with her canine floppy ears flapping behind her,
bounded up out of her chair when she saw our grisly appearance.
“Rrrough assignment?” she barked with concern, as she wagged her
tail and smelled our costumes with her moist snout.
    Spud and I looked at each other and laughed.
Scylla, the largest planet orbiting Sirius in Canis Major, requires
olfactory education for all its citizens from childhood. Scyllians
can smell a rat at fifty paces, which is why the Chidurians prefer
to man their guardposts on the surface above. It took only a moment
for Fydra to discover that our blood and wounds were synthetic,
and, embarrassed, she stepped back and pointed one of her manicured
paws at the red portal. “They’re all in Briefing Three,” she
sniffed.
    “Grrreat,” I responded, and added a
conciliatory, “Thank you.” Scyllians are not known for their sense
of humor. They take their responsibilities as the advance team—and
themselves—very seriously.
    We stopped cold beyond the portal to Earth
Core Control, awestruck. The entire center looked like a Christmas
department store exhibition. All the giant holos that filled the
cavernous room were dotted with flashing red lights. Perspiring
profusely, portly Station Manager Everett Weaver was anxiously
running from one holo to another, jerkily jotting down data on an
electronic tablet, and looking to all the world like he desperately
needed a rest room. Condition one, no kidding.
    We hurried to Briefing Room Three to find
that our Chief Gary had just begun his