“Quake?” Sharan suggested, somewhat hopefully, and then screamed as the lab bounced energetically around them again. Lighting and acoustic panels fell from the ceiling; both Cainen and Sharan struggled to crawl under workbenches. The world imploded around them for a while as they cowered under their tables.
Presently the shaking stopped. Cainen looked around in what flickering light still remained and saw the majority of his lab on the floor, including much of the ceiling and part of the walls. Usually the lab was filled with workers and Cainen’s other assistants, but he and Sharan had come in late to finish up some sequencing. Most of his staff had been in the base barracks, probably asleep. Well, they were awake now.
A high, keening noise echoed down the hall leading to the lab.
“Do you hear that?” Sharan asked.
Cainen gave an affirmative head dip. “It’s the siren for battle stations.”
“We’re under attack?” Sharan asked. “I thought this base was shielded.”
“It is,” Cainen said. “Or was. Supposed to be, anyway.”
“Well, a fine job, I must say,” Sharan said.
Now Cainen was irritated. “Nothing is perfect, Sharan,” he said.
“Sorry,” Sharan said, keying in on her boss’s sudden irritation. Cainen grunted and then slid out from underneath his workbench and picked his way to a toppled-over storage locker. “Come help me with this,” he said to Sharan. Between them they maneuvered the locker to where Cainen could shove open the locker door. Inside was a small projectile gun and a cartridge of projectiles.
“Where did you get this?” Sharan asked.
“This is a military base, Sharan,” Cainen said. “They have weapons. I have two of these. One is here and one is back in the barracks. I thought they might be useful if something like this happened.”
“We’re not military,” Sharan said.
“And I’m sure that will make a huge difference to whoever is attacking the base,” Cainen said, and offered the gun to Sharan. “Take this.”
“Don’t give that to me,” Sharan said. “I’ve never used one. You take it.”
“Are you sure?” Cainen asked.
“I’m sure,” Sharan said. “I’d just end up shooting myself in the leg.”
“All right,” Cainen said. He mounted the ammunition cartridge into the gun and slipped the gun into a coat pocket. “We should head to our barracks. Our people are there. If anything happens, we should be with them.” Sharan mutely gave her assent. Her usual sarcastic persona was now entirely stripped away; she looked drained and frightened. Cainen gave her a quick squeeze.
“Come on, Sharan,” he said. “We’ll be all right. Let’s just try to get to the barracks.”
The two had begun to weave through the rubble in the hall when they heard the sublevel stairwell door slide open. Cainen peered through the dust and low light to make out two large forms coming through the door. Cainen began to backtrack toward the lab; Sharan, who had the same thought rather faster than her boss, had already made it to the lab doorway. The only other way off the floor was the elevator, which lay past the stairwell. They were trapped. Cainen patted his coat pocket as he retreated; he didn’t have all that much more experience with a gun than Sharan and was not at all confident that he’d be able to hit even one target at a distance, much less two, each presumably a trained soldier.
“Administrator Cainen,” said one of the forms.
“What?” Cainen said, in spite of himself, and immediately regretted giving himself away.
“Administrator Cainen,” said the form again. “We’ve come to retrieve you. You’re not safe here.” The form walked forward into a splay of light and resolved itself into Aten Randt, one of the base commandants. Cainen finally recognized him by the clan design on his carapace and his insignia. Aten Randt was an Eneshan, and Cainen was vaguely ashamed to admit that even after all this time at the base, they all still looked alike to him.
“Who is attacking us?” Cainen asked. “How did they find the base?”
“We’re not sure who is attacking us or why,” Aten Randt said. The clicking of his mouthpieces was translated into recognizable speech by a small device that hung from his neck. Aten Randt could understand Cainen without the device, but needed it to speak with him. “The bombardment came from orbit and we’ve only now targeted their landing craft.” Aten Randt advanced on Cainen; Cainen tried not to flinch. Despite their time here and their relatively good working relationship, he was still nervous around the massive insectoid race. “Administrator Cainen, you cannot be found here. We need to get you away from here before the base is invaded.”
“All right,” Cainen said. He motioned Sharan forward to come with him.
“Not her,” Aten Randt said. “Only you.”
Cainen stopped. “She’s my aide. I need her,” he said.