“Here, Commander,” he said, handing me the box.
“When I give you the word, trip the far left switch.”
“Me? What about Ihr?”
“She’s busy dismantling the control panel. That’s why we’re using the remote unit. It’s not difficult, Commander, just trip the switch when I signal you.”
With that he slid through the hatch and disappeared
I felt immensely uncomfortable waiting there with the strange device in my hands. The myriad of dials and levers on its surface were completely foreign to me.
Taking care not to change my grip or touch any of the controls, I turned the unit over to examine it more closely.
My action was answered by a flash and hiss from below as the cold-beams activated.
For the first time in my career, I froze. Horc was still under the beams! My curiosity had triggered the box! I had killed one of my teammates!
As abruptly as they had started, the beams stopped. A heartbeat later, Horc slid out of the hole and began replacing the hatch lid.
“We are now level, Commander, and any Tzen that wishes to dispute it should-“
He broke off, looking at me for the first time.
“Is something wrong, Commander?”
I forced my voice to remain level.
“You didn’t signal.”
“Oh, that! No insubordination intended. The problem was not as difficult as I anticipated, so I flattened into a dead zone and triggered the beams manually. I was under the impression you were reluctant to handle the controls, so I did it myself.”
“In the future, Horc,” I intoned, “if you or any of your team set a plan of action, you would be well advised to follow it. We are in a Combat Zone, and failure to communicate could be disastrous.”