Incident at Ida (part three) (standard:science fiction, 1668 words) [3/3] show all parts
Author: Goreripper	Added: Jan 18 2002	Views/Reads: 2458/1810	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Sladed and Bartlett descend onto Ida to further investigate the xenomorph incident.

"Besides which," Slade said with half a smile, after lightly scalding
Bartlett for his baiting of Alphonse Cordeja half an hour before, "they 
didn't really think Columbus would sail off the edge of the world. Most 
people knew the Earth was round by 1492." 

Bartlett returned her look. 

"I know that," he said with a grin. "But I doubt that Cordeja does." 

The flight between asteroids had taken twenty minutes, most of which had
been eaten up by programming a landing approach. The cumbersome XISB 
spacecraft wasn't a shuttle; if it wasn't in deep space it was hard to 
maneouvre and docking and take-off were nightmare procedures. 
Fortunately, despite Bartlett's hatred of the place, the landing 
facilities at the complex were the best in the solar system so the 
hardest part was convincing its computers that the ship was only flying 
90 kilometres and not 90,000, which took some doing. While Slade argued 
for several minutes with the out-dated CSL Flight Plan Analysis System, 
Bartlett ran a quick inventory check. Virtually every item of equipment 
the pair would need to take with them onto the surface was experimental 
in nature, and hardly any of it had ever been actually needed in the 
field. The tools and weapons had been developed to cope with every 
perceived method of alien attack -- at least every perceived attack 
that one could also perceive a defense against -- but since almost all 
encounters had turned out to be hoaxes, false alarms or unusual 
manifestations of recognised phenomena, the actual effectiveness of 
much of it still remained a mystery. The only device Bartlett really 
trusted was his special issue Glock 9mm, a tried and tested weapon with 
a basic design almost unchanged for two centuries. No matter what he 
was to come up against, if it lived, it could be killed and he hadn't 
met an 'alien' yet that he hadn't been able to stop with a few slugs 
from his automatic. 

The engines were still winding down as the agents picked up their kits
and entered the spacedock's travel lounge. Before they had taken five 
steps they were hailed by a tall, balding man and two gorillas that 
were dead ringers for the goons in Cordeja's office. 

"Agents," the older man said in friendly tone, "welcome to Ida. I'm Fred
Yale, the administrator of the Juliet Sector. Mr Cordeja told me to be 
expecting you and to offer you any assistance you may require." 

"I'll bet he did," Bartlett grumbled. 

Slade shook Yale's proffered hand and he slipped into step beside them,
his accompanying heavies a pace or two behind as they crossed the 
lounge toward the main blister.  Just inside they turned to the left 
and stepped into a well-appointed office. Yale's bodyguards waited 
outside and the supervisor ushered them into chairs opposite his desk. 
He sat down behind it, rearranged some items on it, then folded his 
arms and leaned forward. 

"First of all I want to establish the fact that I am merely an employee
here. I have no allegiances to Milo Ortega or his operations other than 
as an employee of his organisation. Whatever his crimes, real or 
alleged, I can assure you that I run a legitimate operation here in 
Juliet Sector. I'm not a saint, but I'm by no means a pirate or a thug 
and I won't stand for criminal activity in my Sector. If this thing had 
happened anywhere else, I doubt if either of you would be here now. It 
was me who told Ortega about what happened here and I tell you I had a 
hard time convincing him to send you here. It was only when I gave him 
my word that you would only investigate the incident and nothing else 
that he agreed." 

"That was a pretty brave thing to do," Bartlett said, visibly impressed.


"You got that right Agent Bartlett," Yale agreed. "So you see, I'm in
quite a precarious personal position. I can assure you that I will 
allow you carte blanche to examine every inch of this complex if that's 
what you require, but I must first of all gain a guarantee from you 
that anything you find that does not directly effect the result of this 
investigation is not to leave Ida by any means whatsoever." 

"Mr Yale," Slade said, "we are law enforcement officers. We can't give


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