Read Online Trident's Forge by Patrick S Tomlinson - Free Book Online Page B

shuttle cruised low and slow over the alien village, a civilization was exactly what spread out below them. A perfect ring of thick trees grew around the lip of the crater, acting as both a defensive wall and a barrier to the fierce winds constantly blowing in from the ocean. Inside the tree barrier, multiple concentric rings of adobe and brick buildings encircled a small lake at the very bottom of the crater.
    Everywhere he looked, Benson saw the native Atlantians openly gawking up at the shuttle with their noseless, alien faces. Many ran for the safety of their homes. A few fell to their knees with arms spread wide in open worship. Some simply froze in place like statues. A very few shouted and shook spears at the monster invading their sky.
    As the shuttle cast its long shadow over the village, Benson’s suspicions about the rationale for taking the immense craft grew. Maybe it was the only practical way to cross the ocean with twenty people, but had a direct flyover in broad daylight really been necessary?
    Benson dropped that thought and returned to the view. Outside the village, acres and acres of farmland reached deeper into the continent, interrupted by irrigation canals and cart paths. But the most obvious feature was a wide, perfectly straight road sticking out from the west side of the village and continuing past the horizon. It went another forty-odd kilometers before reaching the next village, then branched out to three more, then another twenty from there. No one knew if this particular village was the first to build roads, or only the most recent to be added to the network.
    â€œAt least don’t set us down in their crop fields,” Benson said. “Our exhaust might start a wildfire and cost the entire season’s harvest. And that wouldn’t be good for diplomacy.”
    Valmassoi nodded. “Where would you suggest we set down, then?”
    Benson scanned the landscape until he spotted a clearing. “There. It looks like a crop processing area. Can our pilot set us down in there?”
    â€œLooks like a tight fit, but doable. But it’s four kilometers from the village.”
    â€œWhich gives us plenty of time to think up clever opening lines before our guests arrive.”
    The administrator chuckled and looked to Sergeant Atwood, his hand-picked head of the security detail. Atwood was the Beehive’s sergeant-at-arms, commanding three other guards. Her force operated as an independent arm of Theresa’s constables, focused on personal protection instead of law enforcement, so even though Korolev technically had seniority over her, Valmassoi had insisted on putting her in charge.
    Benson didn’t mind. Madison Atwood had been a hell of a Zero player in her day. She was smart, tough, competent, and adaptable.
    â€œWhat do you think, sergeant?”
    Atwood tied her dark hair back into a short ponytail as she surveyed the scene. “We’re pretty exposed out there, but that’s true for at least ten klicks in any direction. And the terrain is flat enough that we can see anything coming from a long way off. We’ll have plenty of time to dig in or dust off.”
    â€œYou’re assuming there’ll be trouble,” Benson said.
    Atwood shrugged. “It’s my job to assume there’ll be. I don’t like surprises.”
    â€œNot even surprise parties?” Benson asked.
    Atwood shot him a warning glance. “Especially not those.”
    â€œSo, you’re comfortable with Mr Benson’s landing site?” Valmassoi asked. Atwood nodded. “OK, tell the pilot that’s our LZ. Sergeant, get your team ready.”
    Without another word, Atwood got up and walked toward the rear of the cabin, followed closely by her two team members. Korolev shrugged at Benson and chased after them.
    Valmassoi continued. “The rest of us are going to wait inside until the security team has signaled the all clear.”
    A tremor rippled