“If they try and attack the plane,” Dek told them, “we’re pegging the throttle and getting the hell out of here.”

“Roger that,” Kalico told him. “We don’t want to be stuck out here, and we sure as hell don’t want to end up in the drink. I’ve seen what’s swimming around down there.”

“On approach, people,” Dek told her, dropping the flaps, and letting the compact aircraft cup air as it slowed its descent.

Kalico’s heart began to pound. Damn it, not only were they dropping in on a potentially hostile bunch of people, but those floating things could be crazy enough to launch themselves at the airplane. Not to mention that the landing pad looked like a tiny, tiny target in a really fucking big ocean.

“You sure you can land on that?” Kalico asked, trying to keep the tension out of her voice.

“Who do you think is flying this crate, woman? I’m Dek Taglioni.”

“Yeah,” Talina said dryly. “Him and all those quetzals who hate flying and water. You sure you got this?”

“Demon and the rest curled up and turned patterns of yellow and black the moment we took off,” Dek told her. “They’re as scared as I am.”

“That’s a joke, right?” Kalico asked.

All she got in return was the profile of Dek’s amused smile as he eased up on the Pod, slowed, and changed his thrusters to float them gently over the landing pad. Below, Kalico could see into the clear water, got a look at the Pod before they drifted over the observation bubble. She could see the lower part of the station coated in something blue-green. Same with the seatrucks down on the dock. The launch was missing. If there was any good news, it was that the floating cones had backed off.

There didn’t seem to be any sign of life, which was ominous.

“The Chinese lantern things are giving us space,” Talina noted. “That’s a good sign.”

“Yeah. I’ll take it.” Dek eased them over the length of the Pod, then settled them down artfully onto the landing pad. Kalico felt barely a bump. Dek killed the thrust, letting the turbines spin down.

“Welcome to Maritime Unit,” he told them. “Let’s see what’s happening here.”

Kalico nerved herself, unbuckled, and stepped over to the door. She dropped to the landing pad; the gusting wind made her squint as she started for the access door. One hand on her pistol, she walked up, stared into the window. Nothing in the foyer. But she could see that the locker was open, rifles missing.

“Tal?” She accessed her com. Heard nothing. So, was the whole station offline?

She waited, pistol drawn. On the landing pad, the only thing out of place was a couple of packs and satchels along with a duraplast crate.