Fall of Angels (The Saga of Recluce #6)(5)

"A number of little things, beginning with the odds of blind underjumping and emerging near a planet. In our universe, that kind of jump would have turned us into dust and energy. The fusactors are both dead, and they shouldn't be. The indicators show that the firm cells are discharging at half their normal rate, despite twice the emergency load."

"At least there's a planet down there."

"That's another problem. It's a water planet, and it's in what would be a habitable zone-assuming that such a thing existed with a yellow-white star this hot. But it's on the fringe for most of us."

"You're half-Svennish, aren't you?" snapped Gerlich over the speaker. "Trust a Svenn to pick a hot planet."

"He didn't pick it," pointed out Ryba. "How hot is it?"

"If the sensors are accurate... the sea-level surface is like Jobi, but warmer. Too hot to be comfortable for us, but fine for demons. There are a couple of high-altitude plateaus that would be perfect-especially in the smaller continent, but setting a lander down there would be murder."

"Trying to live in a place hotter than Jobi would kill most of us-except you and Ayrlyn," responded Gerlich's voice.

Saryn swallowed in the background, but Nylan said nothing.

"It wouldn't be a revel for us." Ayrlyn's brown eyes seemed to flash blue.

Ryba nodded curtly, but not quite so coldly. "Anything else?"

"I think there's some form of life down there, and there shouldn't be, not without some form of moon, or unless we're looking at a planoformed world. But there aren't any electronic emissions."

"Maybe it's a lapsed colony world."

"Could be. Whose? How long has it been isolated?"

"Stop it, please . . ." said Ayrlyn. "If the fusactors are down, can we fix them? If not, what do we do?"

"We die or colonize." Ryba looked coldly back to Nylan. "Atmosphere?"

"Rough analysis indicates low CO, oxygen about twenty-two percent, mostly nitrogen. There's nothing obviously wrong, but I can't rule out toxic or chronic trace elements in the soil or atmosphere."

"Inhabited?"

"The traces I've picked up say so." The engineer shrugged again. "Could be anything, but it's carbon-based, and, if I had to guess, probably some form of humanoid. There are some regular patches that could be fields and some lines that could be roads ..."

"Better than savages, but not much."

"You could be jumping to conclusions," pointed out Ayrlyn.

"I have to go with the odds." The captain glanced back at the readouts. "And we're continuing to lose power."

"This whole world is against the odds."

Ryba turned and called up the visual display of the smaller continent on her console. "Nylan, Saryn, Ayrlyn . . . come here."

"Captain? Gerlich here. What's the drill? The marine force leader wants to know. So does Merlin."

"We're in stable orbit, but we'll have to abandon the ship. We're surveying landing sites. You can commence figuring loads for the landers. Something along the line of configuration C."

"Self-sustaining?" came the weapons officer's voice.

"That's affirmative. Local culture looks primitive, but organized. Roads and fields, and that probably means things like blades, archers, and cavalry or the local equivalent if they have horses or what passes for them. Mass density is standard, and that means metal-working."

"Understood. All four landers appear operational..."

"Fusactors aren't going to work here, Gerlich," added Nylan. "You'll have to modify the configuration for that."

"Fusactors work everywhere."

"Not here, wherever here is."

The captain looked at Nylan. "You sound absolutely certain."

"You can have Gerlich test the survival fusactor, but it won't work."

"Weapons . . . the engineer is probably right, but test the fusactor and let me know."

"Will do, Captain. How much time do we have?"

"Take enough time to do it right, Gerlich. We're operating on stored power. We can't take the tier two firin cells, but try to make room for the fully charged cells left in tier three."

"What tools?"

"All the hand tools, and"-Ryba looked at Nylan-"two sets of laser cutters."

Nylan nodded.

"No energy weapons?" asked Gerlich.

"The heavy-weapons head for one laser. Hand weapons might be useful for a time, but we probably won't have any way to recharge them. All the slug-throwers the marines have. And take all your clothing-especially sweaters or warm things-even if you have to wear it or stuff it into cracks in the landers. And blankets. I can guarantee we won't be coming back for anything."

"We'll get working on it, Captain."

Ryba turned to the bridge crew and gestured to the screen. "Where do we go down? Here's the planet."

The four clustered around the single wide screen.

"Four major continents. The one that looks like a fish- roughly-has an island off it." Ryba glanced at Nylan. "Would we be better off on the island?"

The engineer shook his head. "It's hot; it's so dry that the sensors don't show any moisture, and there are no signs of habitation. It's also pretty rocky."