Read Online Grendel Unit 2: Ignition Sequence by Bernard Schaffer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Bernard Schaffer
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back and forth and Frank's stomach flopped sideways, making him have to take a deep breath to keep himself from getting queasy. Space travel was going to take some getting used to. He shook his head and was about to make a comment to Hill, when he saw the other man's face had turned a sickening shade of green. "Are you all right, Lieutenant?" Frank said.
"I'm fine," Hill snapped, pressing his back against the wall to keep himself steady. He pressed his hand against his forehead and took it away to look at the sheen of sweat covering his palm. "I just ate something that disagreed with me this morning and this damned idiot of a sergeant doesn't know how to fly the damn ship properly!" he shouted down the corridor.
Frank nodded sympathetically and said, "He'll get better at it , I'm sure."
"He'd better, or I'll be finding us a new pilot, that's for certain," Hill muttered. "Anyway, when we get to Iscariot-Four, just follow my lead. It's a hostile planet to humans, and you aren't used to hardcore undercover operations yet. Stay with me, do everything I do, and you'll be fine. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," Frank said.
Hill quickened his pace, trying to get down the corridor as fast as he could. "Show yourself around the rest of the ship. I'm going to lie down for a bit until we get there. But make sure you're ready to go when this ship lands, because I'm not waiting around for any F.N.G.'s, you got that?"
"I got that," Frank said. He watched the lieutenant clutch his stomach and vanish into his bunk and sighed, "Oh, this is going to be just a ton of fun, I can tell."
6. Body Count's in the House
Their ship descended through a layer of smog so intense it covered the ship's windows in yellow, misty grime. Frank leaned forward against the observation port to peer down at the surface, seeing nothing but dimly glowing streetlights. Buehl was bickering with the ship's console, telling it, "I know the altimeter says we're approaching landing distance, but I can't see a damn thing!"
The proximity warning alarm sounded, beeping rapidly as the ship continued dropping. The rapid descent made Frank's ears pop so violently, he had to clench his eyes shut and wait for the pain to pass. He grabbed a dangling storage strap from the wall and held it with both hands, tightening his grip as the warning alert became one long, panicked computer cry. They collided with the ground so hard that every light on the ship flickered as Frank was lifted two feet off the floor and swung sideways into the wall. Once the ship had settled, he was still swinging from the security strap, too terrified to move.
"Sorry!" Buehl called out. "Sorry about that. That was my fault. The damn system wouldn't calibrate for all the pollution. Is everybody all right?"
Frank let himself down and stood up shakily. From further down the corridor, he could hear Lieutenant Hill vomiting and had to smile.
I might be an F.N.G. but at least I'm not a puker.
He bent down to look at Iscariot-Four, seeing nothing but a smoky, fog-ridden city block. There were large geysers of steam pouring from the tops of tall smokestacks that ran up from the sidewalk. Steam hissed out of rusted metals grates in the gutters, and high above the wet surface of the street, a four-lane aerial highway with hovercars and bikes and trucks racing past one another at neck-breaking speeds.
In the dense, gray mist, Frank saw that he wasn't the only one watching. There were dozens of glittering eyes staring back at the ship, and at him. The fog shifted and he saw creatures and aliens and oddly-shaped figures of every kind. He looked for any humans, either on the street or in the cars above, but saw none.
Hill came banging down the corridor, wiping his mouth and scowling at Buehl. He was buckling a service pistol around his waist as he said, "Thanks for almost killing us, you imbecile."
"I'm sorry about that, El-tee. I'm still getting used to flying this thing."
"Well you better get used to it,
"I'm fine," Hill snapped, pressing his back against the wall to keep himself steady. He pressed his hand against his forehead and took it away to look at the sheen of sweat covering his palm. "I just ate something that disagreed with me this morning and this damned idiot of a sergeant doesn't know how to fly the damn ship properly!" he shouted down the corridor.
Frank nodded sympathetically and said, "He'll get better at it , I'm sure."
"He'd better, or I'll be finding us a new pilot, that's for certain," Hill muttered. "Anyway, when we get to Iscariot-Four, just follow my lead. It's a hostile planet to humans, and you aren't used to hardcore undercover operations yet. Stay with me, do everything I do, and you'll be fine. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," Frank said.
Hill quickened his pace, trying to get down the corridor as fast as he could. "Show yourself around the rest of the ship. I'm going to lie down for a bit until we get there. But make sure you're ready to go when this ship lands, because I'm not waiting around for any F.N.G.'s, you got that?"
"I got that," Frank said. He watched the lieutenant clutch his stomach and vanish into his bunk and sighed, "Oh, this is going to be just a ton of fun, I can tell."
6. Body Count's in the House
Their ship descended through a layer of smog so intense it covered the ship's windows in yellow, misty grime. Frank leaned forward against the observation port to peer down at the surface, seeing nothing but dimly glowing streetlights. Buehl was bickering with the ship's console, telling it, "I know the altimeter says we're approaching landing distance, but I can't see a damn thing!"
The proximity warning alarm sounded, beeping rapidly as the ship continued dropping. The rapid descent made Frank's ears pop so violently, he had to clench his eyes shut and wait for the pain to pass. He grabbed a dangling storage strap from the wall and held it with both hands, tightening his grip as the warning alert became one long, panicked computer cry. They collided with the ground so hard that every light on the ship flickered as Frank was lifted two feet off the floor and swung sideways into the wall. Once the ship had settled, he was still swinging from the security strap, too terrified to move.
"Sorry!" Buehl called out. "Sorry about that. That was my fault. The damn system wouldn't calibrate for all the pollution. Is everybody all right?"
Frank let himself down and stood up shakily. From further down the corridor, he could hear Lieutenant Hill vomiting and had to smile.
I might be an F.N.G. but at least I'm not a puker.
He bent down to look at Iscariot-Four, seeing nothing but a smoky, fog-ridden city block. There were large geysers of steam pouring from the tops of tall smokestacks that ran up from the sidewalk. Steam hissed out of rusted metals grates in the gutters, and high above the wet surface of the street, a four-lane aerial highway with hovercars and bikes and trucks racing past one another at neck-breaking speeds.
In the dense, gray mist, Frank saw that he wasn't the only one watching. There were dozens of glittering eyes staring back at the ship, and at him. The fog shifted and he saw creatures and aliens and oddly-shaped figures of every kind. He looked for any humans, either on the street or in the cars above, but saw none.
Hill came banging down the corridor, wiping his mouth and scowling at Buehl. He was buckling a service pistol around his waist as he said, "Thanks for almost killing us, you imbecile."
"I'm sorry about that, El-tee. I'm still getting used to flying this thing."
"Well you better get used to it,
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