Time or money for much at all, he decided when he saw the condition of the airfield buildings. They had an uninhabited and disused look to them, with dead vines clinging to the walls. The plants were little more than mushy stalks that hadn’t yet fallen to join the rest of the plant in the mud. The building was on slightly higher ground, so the water had not yet quite reached it … although it looked to have been flooded quite recently, perhaps during whatever disaster dumped all this water on what was supposed to have been growing here. A badly warped and distorted sign over the door, half-covered with mold, read,
LOADING CENTER WEST-AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
When he touched the door panel, it was slimy. Wiping his hand, he pressed harder for admittance, and, creaking badly, the door gradually opened. Obviously no one had been here for yonks. It must have been in use once, for there were benches, tables, openings in the sidewall which had led to a ticket counter, and to a weighing office. The size of the platform suggested heavy cargoes had been shifted through here.
Only one door was locked, and that gave -with just a little push, as the damp-soaked locking apparatus fell from the softened wood. Calum had hit pay dirt-he’d found the main office, to judge by all the files. Someone had spent time and energy to pile the plastic cabinets on footings to keep them above water level.
The room had several communication devices, good ones, but Calum had to wonder if they were still serviceable under all the mold. He brushed as much gunk as he could away and depressed the com toggle. It clicked uselessly several times before he decided that there was nothing powering it.
Frowning, he went back outside to see solar panels on the roof. Not much would rot or otherwise damage the materials from which such panels were usually manufactured, but they did have to have at least four hours of sun to operate. Clouds were already gathering to the west. Rather fast, he thought, remembering they’d landed in clear skies and hadn’t even seen a weather front moving in on their approach from the west. Odd that! And there wasn’t so much as a breeze to ruffle the flooded field.
He caught sight of Acorna in her grazing posture and was delighted that she, at least, had had some luck. He hoped he’d have his share as well. There had to be something wrong for the solar panels to fail. Possibly the cable connecting the panels to the reservoir had perished. Then he spotted the ladder attached to the gable end of the roof, which would give him access to the panels. He’d just check. Sure enough, the cable connections had fallen away from the rain-soft wood, and the cable itself lay half in a puddle, the insulation rotting away from it. Well, he had plenty of cable that size back at the ship, so he climbed down and splashed to the AcaSecki, got a belt of the tools he’d need, and waded back to the building.
It didn’t take him long to splice the cable and, since he rather thought there’d been some sunlight, maybe he could just rouse someone on this planet on the com unit. He headed into the rundown building. Power he had, and he sent a brief message, asking to be met by someone in authority at the field so he could transact business in acquiring new seeds for a hydroponics tank system. Then he trudged back to the AccSecki to get himself a bit of lunch and await the arrival of anyone who’d heard the call.
That was why he didn’t see Acorna waving frantically in his direction, or hear her distant voice trying to warn him of the flotilla of assorted water vessels heading in his direction, bristling with all sorts of makeshift weapons. The first he knew of danger was an unfriendly challenge from the leading boat:
Hold it right there, y’damned pirate!”
Whoops, Calum thought, suspecting that Kezdet’s new improved interstellar reputation might not have spread as far as Rushima. For the first time he felt fervently grateful for the hasty departure that had precluded his suggesting that Mercy might accompany them on the journey-ostensibly to provide Acorna with feminine company, that would have been his excuse. His sweet, gentle Mercy had already been exposed to too many dangers in her time -as a spy for the Child Liberation League within the offices of the corrupt Kezdet police. She didn’t need to deal with floods, famine, riots, and whatever else was now coming their way, clearly spoiling for a fight.