Read Online Syberian Sunrise by S. A. Lusher - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: S. A. Lusher
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to help him with his phantom pains. They all said there was nothing actually wrong with him, it was all in his head.
There was a small and desperate part of him that clung to the belief that Cyr tech might be able to help. It might somehow unlock his cure. Ridiculous, he knew, but it made him enjoy seeing the Cyr artifacts in the same way that adults found themselves sometimes captivated by simple things that had once been of significance during childhood. Enzo moved to the door, opened it and stepped through. He took a look around.
The Cyr ship resided in a massive cavern, the roof some three or four hundred feet overhead. Everything was lit up by brilliant, powerful arc-lights. Behind him, Enzo spied a handful of single-story structures lined up, one of them being the security center. They all looked abandoned. Ahead and beyond the ship was what appeared to be an observation platform, half an octagon of glass and steel jutting out from the rock high above, near the ceiling. It was dark and dead. He ignored this for now, turning his attention fully to the vessel.
It wasn't very large, maybe two or three times to the size of a jump ship. It was sleek and angular and glaringly white. Nothing marked the flawless skin of the craft. It reminded him of pearls, the ideal of where that phrase 'pearly whites' had come from. There were no windows. The vessel was long and narrow, coming to a tip at one end and a flat expanse at the other. That flat expanse was open, curving down into what seemed to be a cargo ramp, allowing personnel access to the interior.
That would be his point of entry.
Someone had built scaffolding around the entirety of the craft. All manner of equipment was supported by the scaffolding. Enzo saw lasers and drills and monitoring gear. It looked like they were trying everything on the vessel, which made sense. It this technology existed, it was entirely possible someone could have reverse-engineered it, or figured it out. If you didn't know how to defend against Cyr tech, you'd be fucked. Enzo studied the gear closer. It looked very powerful, the kind of stuff you could cut through a starship hull with. And yet the exterior of the smooth white vessel was entirely undamaged. Enzo was impressed.
He pulled out his pistol as he came to the cargo ramp. There were lights on inside the vessel, although they looked man-made, having that artificial, pale glow to them. After stopping and listening at the foot of the ramp for a long moment, he determined that there was no one inside. Or at least no one who was moving around. Enzo moved his finger inside the trigger guard, then began making his way nice and slow up the ramp.
A part of him had expected the material to be slick, almost absent of friction entirely, based on how it looked. But his his boots had no problem clinging to the surface, nor did they stick to it. There was the perfect amount of give, the perfect amount of grip. He came to the top of the ramp and found himself staring into a medium-sized cargo bay. No Cyr stuff in it, but a lot of human crap. The researchers had piled up workstations, scanning gear and crates all along the interior, not to mention strung up their own lights.
It all looked ugly and out of place among the sleek design of the Cyr ship. Enzo noticed that there didn't appear to be any corners along the edges of the room. Where two flat pieces of material might meet in a human ship, say the floor and a wall, it was smooth and curved gently. Enzo spent a few moments checking out the workstations and the gear, but it was all locked down and it didn't look like he was getting into it.
He ignored it, moving back to the only other door in the room. Except that it wasn't a door, more of a doorway. If there was ever a door there, it was either gone or so expertly hidden as to not exist. Enzo passed through it into a length corridor. There were openings, more doorways, along either side and at the end. Stopping, he peered into the nearest
There was a small and desperate part of him that clung to the belief that Cyr tech might be able to help. It might somehow unlock his cure. Ridiculous, he knew, but it made him enjoy seeing the Cyr artifacts in the same way that adults found themselves sometimes captivated by simple things that had once been of significance during childhood. Enzo moved to the door, opened it and stepped through. He took a look around.
The Cyr ship resided in a massive cavern, the roof some three or four hundred feet overhead. Everything was lit up by brilliant, powerful arc-lights. Behind him, Enzo spied a handful of single-story structures lined up, one of them being the security center. They all looked abandoned. Ahead and beyond the ship was what appeared to be an observation platform, half an octagon of glass and steel jutting out from the rock high above, near the ceiling. It was dark and dead. He ignored this for now, turning his attention fully to the vessel.
It wasn't very large, maybe two or three times to the size of a jump ship. It was sleek and angular and glaringly white. Nothing marked the flawless skin of the craft. It reminded him of pearls, the ideal of where that phrase 'pearly whites' had come from. There were no windows. The vessel was long and narrow, coming to a tip at one end and a flat expanse at the other. That flat expanse was open, curving down into what seemed to be a cargo ramp, allowing personnel access to the interior.
That would be his point of entry.
Someone had built scaffolding around the entirety of the craft. All manner of equipment was supported by the scaffolding. Enzo saw lasers and drills and monitoring gear. It looked like they were trying everything on the vessel, which made sense. It this technology existed, it was entirely possible someone could have reverse-engineered it, or figured it out. If you didn't know how to defend against Cyr tech, you'd be fucked. Enzo studied the gear closer. It looked very powerful, the kind of stuff you could cut through a starship hull with. And yet the exterior of the smooth white vessel was entirely undamaged. Enzo was impressed.
He pulled out his pistol as he came to the cargo ramp. There were lights on inside the vessel, although they looked man-made, having that artificial, pale glow to them. After stopping and listening at the foot of the ramp for a long moment, he determined that there was no one inside. Or at least no one who was moving around. Enzo moved his finger inside the trigger guard, then began making his way nice and slow up the ramp.
A part of him had expected the material to be slick, almost absent of friction entirely, based on how it looked. But his his boots had no problem clinging to the surface, nor did they stick to it. There was the perfect amount of give, the perfect amount of grip. He came to the top of the ramp and found himself staring into a medium-sized cargo bay. No Cyr stuff in it, but a lot of human crap. The researchers had piled up workstations, scanning gear and crates all along the interior, not to mention strung up their own lights.
It all looked ugly and out of place among the sleek design of the Cyr ship. Enzo noticed that there didn't appear to be any corners along the edges of the room. Where two flat pieces of material might meet in a human ship, say the floor and a wall, it was smooth and curved gently. Enzo spent a few moments checking out the workstations and the gear, but it was all locked down and it didn't look like he was getting into it.
He ignored it, moving back to the only other door in the room. Except that it wasn't a door, more of a doorway. If there was ever a door there, it was either gone or so expertly hidden as to not exist. Enzo passed through it into a length corridor. There were openings, more doorways, along either side and at the end. Stopping, he peered into the nearest
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