Bridgehead: The Eden Chronicles - Book Four by S.M. Anderson

Author:S.M. Anderson [Anderson, S.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MCE Press
Published: 2021-03-10T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Balearic Islands, Chandra

The foghorn atop the flying bridge of the Door Knocker gave two quick blasts. Two minutes from translation; Kyle and Tom Souza stood at the edge of the deck of the barge, watching the rest of their team go through their own final prep. Kyle’s stay on Eden was going to last only as long as it had taken to get geared up and onboard the barge. Kyle smiled and nudged Tom with his elbow as he watched Hans Van Slyke stuff his mouth with half a pack of gum in preparation for the translation.

“That isn’t going to end well,” he said, laughing quietly. The secondary effects that hit most people upon translation were psychosomatic. Hans was doing what he could to counteract the taste of having eaten a bug that he’d come to expect. It wasn’t going to work. He’d seen other “bug eaters” try to get ahead of the bitter taste. He felt no need or desire to tell his friend that the wad of gum in his mouth was going to be a mouthful of bug on arrival.

“I’m an ear-popper,” Tom explained. “I’ve been told I’m lucky.”

“You are.” Kyle nodded. “One of the Creight chieftains thought he had ants crawling all over him. If it had lasted much longer, we probably would have had to dart him. I’d heard some Jema describe that one, but it was the first time I’d seen it.”

Tom pointed with his chin at the Carlisle brothers, standing to the side of Hans and Domenik. “You’re in for a treat. Danny has a bad case of space spiders.”

“Space spiders?”

“Consider the source.” Tom laughed. “The two of them think they’ve worked out a solution. I told them they could try it . . . once.”

“Do I want to know?”

“No explanation will be needed.”

“I get a headache,” Kyle answered. “They don’t last long at all, maybe thirty seconds. But they’re real enough.” He couldn’t laugh too hard at Han’s attempt with the gum. He’d tried loading up on aspirin and caffeine in advance of a translation, but his brain hadn’t been fooled one iota.

The foghorn atop the flying bridge gave its final one-minute warning blast. The setting seemed surreal; he could see the dark blue water of Puget Sound in the distance. Kyle could smell the heavy salt air of the ocean, and their “ship” was standing on its stout “legs” in the middle of a graveled parking lot. This was as close to water as the barge was going to get for now. The term “land yacht” had never been more accurate.

The first leg of their travels on Chandra this evening should be a cakewalk. Tom had shared the satellite photo of their target island with him. The small island of Cabrera lay just south of what would have been Mallorca on Earth. The desert island on Chandra didn’t even have so much as a dirt road visible. They were going to pop in, deploy two collection antennas, test the satellite communication link with Kirkton, and pop back to Whidbey on Eden.

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