“You don’t need one,” she said. “We’re there.”
Reinhardt crested the last mountain, and the lander came into view, a massive, metallic discoid, shrouded in a cloud of dust. Mazer stared. It was larger than anything he had imagined. An engineering impossibility. Perhaps sixty stories high and nearly a kilometer wide. The top of it was smooth, shiny, and slightly rotund. But the side was crude, made from thousands of metal plates of various sizes arranged in a seemingly random fashion, as if the builders had no regard for symmetry or aesthetics.
Beneath the lander was a ring of displaced earth several hundred meters wide, tallest near the lander and tapering off near the edges, as if the lander had stepped on a giant mud pie and spilled its contents in every direction. No, not a mud pie, Mazer realized. A mountain. The lander had crushed a small mountain or large hill, leveling it to the ground and displacing dirt and unearthed trees in a mudslide that had buried much of the valley floor.
“Patu,” Mazer shouted, “turn on all external cameras and broadcast a live feed to every satellite you can access. Then get on the radio with Auckland and the Chinese and tell them the landers have shields.”
“How can you be sure?” said Patu.
“That must be how it crushed the mountain,” said Mazer. “It couldn’t have been the force of the impact. The lander was moving too slow when it set down. And look at the landscape. No shockwave evidence, just the wall of displaced earth. That has to be from shields.”
“What does that mean?” said Fatani.
“Means we may not be able to hurt it even if we try,” said Mazer. “Reinhardt, circle this thing. Help Patu capture it from every angle. Fatani, you and I will scan for survivors. There’s a rice field to the immediate north. There were probably workers down there when this thing hit. Look there first.”
Mazer gave his shoulder harness a shake to make sure it was tight then blinked out the command to open his door. A gust of wind and dust blew into the cockpit as Mazer’s door slid back. He leaned out as far as his straps would allow and looked down, zooming in with his HUD.
The mudslide was a blanket of brown, with broken trees and the shattered remains of houses jutting up here and there through the muck. It was total devastation. If there were survivors, there wouldn’t be many. Mazer activated his thermal scanner, but the screen showed nothing promising. If there were people trapped under the muck, Mazer couldn’t see them.
He lifted his head and looked farther west, to the edge of the mudslide. There he saw his first body. Someone lay facedown in the water of a rice paddy, arms extended, half submerged, not moving. Mazer couldn’t tell if it was a child or an adult, but either way, the person was beyond help.
He looked farther west toward a village built into the side of a neighboring mountain, a kilometer away. A few people were running from their homes, heading down into the valley, presumably looking for loved ones who had been working in the fields. The rest of the villagers were scrambling up the mountain, fleeing in the opposite direction, away from the lander, their arms full of meager supplies.
Mazer’s eyes returned to the rice fields, scanning right and left. He figured he was best off sticking to the edge of the mudslide. Or even just beyond it. That’s where he had the greatest likelihood of finding someone alive.
Then he saw it.
A large tree near the edge, half buried, branches broken. From under it, right at the edge of the mudslide, a pair of legs emerged, skinny and barefoot. The head and upper torso appeared buried. For a moment Mazer was certain the person was dead, suffocated under the mountain of mud and debris. Then the legs kicked, moved.
“I got somebody,” Mazer shouted. “Computer, lock on this position.”
The HERC’s AI tracked where Mazer’s eyes were looking and put a targeting icon on the moving legs. The coordinates were immediately entered into the computer, and the image of the survivor was shared with the team.
“I see him,” said Reinhardt. He banked the HERC to the right, moving in that direction. “How are we going to get him out?”
“Drop me at the site,” said Mazer. “I’ll get him an oxygen mask, then we’ll use the talons to lift the tree away and pull him out. Patu, get the triage kit ready.”
A deafening noise filled the air. Metal creaking, screeching, grinding. A machine as big as a city coming to life.
“What is that?” said Fatani
“Swing us back around,” said Mazer.
Reinhardt rotated the HERC until they were facing the lander again. They hovered there, high in the air, a hundred meters away from it, with a clear view of its top, watching it.
The noise was unbearable. Piercing, painful stabs of volume. Mazer wanted to rip off his helmet and press his palms to his ears.