The Lazarus War: Artefact by Jamie Sawyer Page A

move to stage two of the mission. If there is some genuine reason for the station failing to report – which seems less likely, based on what we’ve just been told – then we offer any assistance necessary. If the facility is no longer viable, then we demolish it. It runs on a standard-pattern power generator, the same as a civilian starship. A well-placed demolition charge will send the entire place into meltdown.”
    I activated the tri-D viewer and called up a map of Helios Station. A wireframe hologram appeared in front of me. I pointed out key locations.
    “The plans show multiple hangar bays and some storage silos. A power station – which houses the generator and main power supply – sits in the middle of the outpost, alongside the Operations centre.”
    The power station was the lifeblood of the station, but Operations was the beating heart – a tower housing what little capacity the staff had to contact the rest of the human race.
    “There are habitation modules on the perimeter of the outpost. A laboratory complex sits here.”
    Even in tri-D, the buildings and base looked bland. No doubt the station had been set up from orbit, and it was likely that each building had once been a module from a settler-class starship – disassembled, then dropped to Helios’ surface. Given the adverse conditions in which the station was established, an orbital drop was the only safe option.
    “Looks like a hundred other bases we’ve fought over,” Blake said. “Move along. Nothing to see here.”
    I nodded. “Let’s not get complacent. I want the ground team to study the schematics before we make transition. They will also be loaded onto the suit-computers.”
    “How far is Helios Station from the, uh, Artefact?” Blake asked.
    “Several kilometres.” I brought up another holo-map of the wider desert region, and I pointed out the locations. “But the Artefact doesn’t form part of our tactical plan. If Command wants someone to babysit, then they can send the regular Army.”
    “What about atmospheric conditions down there?” Martinez said. “Are they human-standard? Or are we going to be buttoned up the whole time?”
    “It’s breathable, but not quite California,” Olsen pitched in.
    “Hey, since the Directorate launched that attack on San Angeles, California isn’t such a picture any more,” said Kaminski.
    “Thanks for that, ’Ski,” Jenkins said.
    Jenkins’ family was out of San Angeles. The city-state took over most of the western seaboard – or at least it had, until it had been nuked by the Directorate back in seventy-one. The loss of life had been immense; it was too recent an atrocity to joke about.
    Olsen continued: “Meteorological data from the station satellite suggests extensive storms batter much of the planet’s main continent, often appearing with little or no warning. Limited surface water, huge areas of desert. The latest weather report indicates that a storm is moving in from the west.”
    “The place looks like prime real estate,” Kaminski said. “Maybe one of us could buy the farm down there.”
    Martinez and Blake sniggered, but Jenkins didn’t. The California jibe had pissed her off.
    “Quit screwing around, assholes,” she said. “We’ve got a job to do.”
    “I know you’re all running on a lot of stress right now,” I said, “but there won’t be room for slip-ups on this op. Olsen, you were saying?”
    Olsen gave a dim smile and went on: “There is a storm moving in from the west. That will limit the window of opportunity.”
    “How long have we got?”
    “Two days before it hits.”
    I indicated some printed images scattered across the viewer table. Pictures of the Artefact, angular and foreign – alien even to the Krell. I couldn’t look at the warped architecture for too long without beginning to feel ill.
    “Are we still picking up the Artefact?” I asked. “Is it still broadcasting?”
    Atkins nodded. “The Oregon ’s AI has been monitoring