"I can imagine, if he is Drake's son. As I said, Drake asked me to carry a message to him personally. I don't know if it will help him. What is it all about?" Geoffrey asked. "The war, I mean."
"Do you know what Drake is?"
"Only vaguely."
"You know he isn't actually human?"
"Of course. His species is very old, but I couldn't tell you much else." Geoffrey knew more than that, but if Drake hadn't seen fit to tell anyone here, he certainly wasn't going to.
"We are currently fighting a war with the Earth Federation, but they're really just pawns in a bigger war. The real enemy is somewhat like Drake, but pure evil."
"That… isn't good." The Concord knew more than they realized, Geoffrey thought, if they knew that much.
"No, not good at all. Drake's son is leading the fight against them, but as I said earlier, things haven't been going well. One of the biggest problems we have is that the enemy is so frightening that they inflict psychological damage on many people who see them. You have the advantage of having seen things almost as strange already. I think you'd do well on Tebrey's team."
"You want me to fight things like Drake?"
"Well, they aren't quite as terrible as him," Shadovsky said with a sardonic smile. "I've killed a couple. Tebrey has killed several at this point. There are a lot of people who've fought them. Think about it. I'll forward some information to your terminal. In the meantime, I'll make arrangements for you to meet Tebrey. It wouldn't do to ignore Drake's wishes in this matter. If he asked you to tell Tebrey something personally, then I think you should."
Θ
The westerly prevailing winds were cold and carried gritty ash and a carrion stench. It irritated Daeren Drake's sensitive nose, but it wasn't dangerous in itself. There was a chance, of course, that one of the bio-engineered contagions was also carried on the wind, but there wasn't an illness on any world that would have concerned him. Even before his death and rebirth, he had been virtually immune to disease. The medical nanotechnology that coursed through his veins was thousands of years more advanced than anything humans had ever developed. He had nothing to fear from anything they had engineered. Assuming humans had engineered the viruses that had devastated this world, of course.
Drake shook his head. He had traveled in some desolate places at times, but none that provoked sorrow and a profound sense of loss as much as the one in which he found himself now. Those feelings were all the more powerful because of how familiar this place was to him. He'd walked this planet in recent memory, and he remembered how alive, how full of warmth and even joy, it had been. Now it was all but dead, with monsters gnawing at what remained. Drake's daughter had been in the western part of this continent when the war broke out, but he couldn't sense her there anymore. She either was dead or had left this Realm. He suspected the latter. Xia Jaiying was a survivor. She would be all right. He was almost certain of that.
His friends Geoffrey and Jason had also lived here, before the war. They weren't as tough as his daughter. They couldn't leave on their own, either. Geoffrey was safe – well, as safe as anyone could expect – but Jason… Jason was nowhere to be found. It wasn't often that Drake couldn't find something or someone he looked for. He didn't like the experience.
Even if Jason had died when Cincinnati burned, Drake would have been able to find his bones in the ashes. But Jason hadn't died there, or anywhere, as far as Drake could sense. The technology Jason wore for concealment would only work if he was alive. Ergo, Jason wasn't dead. If he would just remove it for a moment, Drake would find him; he didn't abandon his friends.
A shrill scream briefly drew Drake's attention to the east. He ignored it after a moment and kept walking.
The Dark Ones, the lesser Enemy, were feasting upon the remnants of humanity. He'd slain several, but most avoided him. He wasn't being particularly careful to mask his presence. He would welcome a good fight, to relieve the tedium. Most of the Enemy he'd met were no better than animals, though: easy enough to dispatch, and not much of a threat. He hadn't met any who knew of anything other than this place. None of the true Enemy were present, or if they were, they were keeping very well concealed.
No, he had to concentrate on finding Jason. His search of Cincinnati had led him to the ruins of Atlanta. There were partial records that indicated Jason might have been working with Klaus Gerhardt. Drake knew the industrialist from before the war, and so had Jason, so it made sense. The records of what had occurred during the war were in terrible shape, and the memories of the survivors weren't much better. Geoffrey had been in a state of shock when Drake had found him in the woods north of the city, starved and almost insane with grief.
It had taken Drake a while to piece together what had happened. Contagions had spread across the world, likely engineered. For weeks the governments struggled to contain them, but then war broke out. Five days. That is all it took to reduce the world to ruin. In all likelihood, less than one percent of the population had survived the war. The planet itself had changed, cooling from the dust in the atmosphere. Now winter reigned everywhere, from pole to pole. The northern United States lay buried under meters of snow, and it was still falling.
The war had brought out the best in many people. Drake had found small communities of survivors banded together to help the sick and the starving. The war brought out the worst in others. Warlords preyed upon the weak, using the communities as convenient places to find new victims. If one thing was a universal rule, it was that the weak would be preyed upon by the strong.
The contagions that swept the planet hadn't been simple illnesses, though. They were much more insidious. The diseases had killed most people outright, but others it changed. It did something to their minds. Made them no better than beasts. There were now roving bands of the feral scavengers scraping out a living in the ruins. These packs descended upon anyone and anything they found. Sometimes they ate the victims when they were finished with them. They had learned not to bother Drake, though. Predators recognized and respected a superior hunter. At least most of them did.
Another scream came from the east. This one was longer and more drawn out. Drake sighed. He knew he shouldn't get involved – these people meant nothing to him – but his feet were already carrying him in that direction. He remembered more of himself every day. The man he'd been before would have gone at once to the aid of those in need.
Now, it was a struggle to feel anything.
A pack of ferals was systematically beating a woman and two men to death in a cleared area between buildings. Their behavior seemed odd, until Drake noticed the bodies that littered the ground. These people had given a good account of themselves. They had begun to teach the ferals the mistake of attacking a party of armed humans. The ferals circled warily, darting in with pipes and sticks to hit the people and darting out again, hooting and making low noises of excitement. One of the men was still up and fighting. He had a long knife, but he was none too steady on his feet. From the blood, he'd obviously been hit on the head a few times.
Drake sighed again. He hated killing animals, but some long disused part of himself wouldn't allow him to walk away, either. He had the power to intervene; therefore he should. It was the right thing to do, he decided. Deep in his mind, his connection to the Instrumentality beckoned. He had the power to make these beasts cease to exist. He had only to open the link, call forth the power, and they would be destroyed. Consumed by the raw power of creation and destruction, by chaos itself.
His link had transcended death. When Drake had first come back, he'd drawn upon the link instinctively. But he knew better than that now. The Instrumentality was too powerful. It was more than just a tool, no matter what the more ignorant members of his species thought. It had become sentient, and it had its own agenda. He remembered only too well how it had betrayed him. Betrayed all of them. When he had entered the cavern with the Enemy, he'd tried to use his link to destroy them, to summon aid, to escape. But the Instrumentality had decided that he was no longer of u
se, and it had left him to die.
No, he would not call upon that power now.
The ferals began to hoot louder and growl as he came toward them. The alpha male of the pack charged him, wielding a thick pipe. Drake watched him come. The male was naked except for a thick layer of mud and grime. Drake was glad the wind was from behind him; he was sure the man-creature stank.
The alpha's scream of rage turned into a cry of anguish as Drake ducked under his swing and punched him in the chest with his full strength. He felt the creature's sternum shatter under his fist, and the feral flew away from him as if jerked by a rope, collapsing in a broken heap meters away. Drake ignored the dying leader. The other ferals were too stupid or insane to run. It didn't matter, though. Once he'd started, Drake hadn't intended to let any of them live anyway.
Chapter Five
Tebrey had no idea how much time had passed since he'd been placed in stasis, but he guessed it hadn't been more than a few days. The scientists at the base hadn't taken any chances with him. They had stunned him again as soon as the pod was opened, then injected him with a sedative before undoing the straps.
He had awoken in a padded cell.
Time to find out if he was where he wanted to be.
Tebrey activated his datalink. Normally he wouldn't have been able to crack the encryption the base used without the cryptography suite in his powered armor, but his datalink had been upgraded with an entangled pair connection to the machine intelligence aboard the CSS Vigilant.
Hello, Commander, the MI said via datalink. It is good to hear from you. We've been worried.
You and me both, Alessa. How long?
It has been seventeen days since you were captured. Five since we lost contact.
That sounds about right, said Tebrey. Can you crack the encryption and get us into the networks here?
I already have, Alessa replied smugly. You are currently on level twenty-seven of the bioweapons facility at TZ Arietis, as planned.
Is it here? Tebrey asked.
The Engine or the Other?
Either. Both.
Records indicate that the Engine has not yet arrived. The Other is confined two levels down from yours at the other end of the base.
A schematic of the base temporarily overlaid his vision, showing his position in relation to the Other, and the base as a whole. The base was huge, tens of kilometers across. Getting to the Other was going to be a challenge.
Are you well, Commander?
No, but nothing serious, Tebrey replied. They injected me with something that inhibits my psionic abilities, but I think it's wearing off.
They probably miscalculated the dosage. Your metabolism is not standard for a human of your stature. I expect them to return to administer another dose in a few hours.
Thanks. Just what I wanted to hear. What is the status of the Vigilant?
The captain is waiting for your orders before coming in.
You're close?
Waiting in interstellar space fifty light minutes out. Do you want us to come in now?
I'm trying to decide. I'd really like to get the Engine. I want to know what it is, and why they want to put me in it so badly.
There is no information in the base computers.
Tebrey sighed. I'm not surprised. Compartmentalized data security. The information is probably with the Engine. Hold position for now. If something happens, I'll need you in here quickly.
I'll let Captain Maxwell know, Commander.
Θ
Ghost slipped in and out of consciousness over the next twenty hours, and Tonya Harris slipped in and out of despair correspondingly. Ghost had been with Tonya for years. They had survived the worst that the Nurgg could throw at them during the war, and had faced worse afterwards before joining the Concord. Tonya couldn't stand thinking that there might be a time when she wouldn't have the huge panther as a partner.
The physical constraints of their situation weren't helping. Tonya had never been outside a ship during a hyperspace jump before. She didn't like it. There were times when she was sure something was watching her from out in hyperspace. It was a ridiculous thought, of course, but she couldn't shake it. She was too aware of how little anyone actually knew about hyperspace. At least she had been able to connect Ghost’s suit into the life support of the ship, the neo-panther wouldn’t run out of air, whatever else happened.
Tonya was naturally filled with relief when she noted that the violet light from the negative energy field was fading, a sure sign the ship was dropping out of hyperspace. She'd been right after all. GL 783 was a short jump from where the battle had taken place, but there wasn't a Federation base there.
At least Tonya had never heard of one being there. It was the only system they could have jumped to, though.
The transition from hyperspace to normal space was rough. Tonya felt the shaking through the soles of her armor. She smiled predatorily. The Sycamore had taken a piece of the bastards with her, which was all anyone could hope for in battle.
Tonya spent the two-hour journey into the system nervously checking her weapons. Ghost was unconscious; she had been since before they arrived. Tonya was going to have to pull her companion along after her, using her suits thrusters, and hope no one saw them.
Θ
The admiral had told Geoffrey that he would be sending data about the enemy and the war to Geoffrey's terminal, and he hadn't been kidding. It was going to take days for Geoffrey to sift through all of the information. One thing was clear to him as he skimmed the files, though: it was the most frightening thing he'd ever read about.
The Sentient Concord had tracked at least three different patterns of unknown alien activity in nearby space. There had been horrific murders and loss of ships for more than fifty years. The loss of ships used to be attributed to drive malfunctions; now they knew better. All of the indications suggested that the attacks went back further than that, but the data was insufficient to prove it. Most of the attacks were now attributed to a class of creatures the Concord had taken to calling Theta entities. Geoffrey noted with interest that much of the data had been compiled by a woman named Ana Tebrey; he doubted it was a coincidence.
Thetas came in all sizes, shapes, and degrees of power, apparently. As he skimmed through the files, Geoffrey was struck by the similarities between this enemy and what he knew of his friend Drake's enemies. Thoughts of the war Drake had told him about echoed in his mind. Some of these entities seemed able to assume different forms. In Geoffrey's experience, that was far from common. Geoffrey had seen Drake do it, but to face an enemy capable of doing the same thing would be a nightmare for security. No wonder they took blood samples so often.
Many of the enemy also seemed able to travel vast distances instantly. It wasn't known if this was by conventional apportation or some technological means. That gave Geoffrey pause. Where he came from, psionic abilities were not common. Indeed, they were often looked upon with a high degree of skepticism. He spent most of the afternoon reading about the development of the science of psionics. It was fascinating, but not specific to the problem he was facing. He turned back to the information from the admiral with a promise to himself to read more about psionics later. Especially since the admiral said Geoffrey had a high potential.
There was another race, those whom the Thyrna-Shae called the Jaernalith. They were behind the rest of the attacks. Jaernalith were grotesque beings with tentacles, multiple eyes, and some seriously advanced technology, although not at Drake's level, thank goodness. Jaernalith were highly psionic. It seemed, however, that they were flesh-and-blood aliens. Not as scary or as dangerous as Thetas. They mostly limited themselves to commerce raiding in the core worlds of the Earth Federation. There were indications that the attacks emanated from somewhere in the Centauri system. Of the two inhabitable worlds in that system, Kismet was the most likely home base for the aliens. It was a reclusive world that sealed itself away from the rest of the Federation for religious reasons.
L
astly, there was a third pattern of attacks originating from Empire space. The Wolf Empire was a small group of human-populated stars systems thirty light-years from Earth and over fifty light-years from the Sentient Concord. Those attacks had ceased after a mission to Chi Orionis, when the FFS Centaur had reduced the Empire base on the planet Vesuvius. That was the last mission Hrothgar Tebrey had fought for the Federation before he defected to the Sentient Concord.
The file on Hrothgar Tebrey was a fascinating read but didn't tell Geoffrey much about the man's personality. Reading through all of the horrible things that happened to him, Geoffrey didn't doubt that Tebrey was Drake's son. Who else could have come through all of that not only alive but sane? If sane was even the right word for someone of Drake's blood.
The Earth Federation had betrayed Tebrey after the battle at Vesuvius. As Tebrey was trying to escape the Federation base on Prism, Theta-controlled ships launched a devastating attack upon that world. The Federation had blamed the attack on the Concord, which led directly to the war the Concord was currently fighting against the Federation. This information was the first indication Geoffrey'd seen that the Theta entities were organized. It was clear that they had manipulated events to bring about the war. He wondered if that was what Drake meant. The Thetas were similar to what he knew of Drake's 'Great Enemy' from the war his people had fought long ago. Maybe they were the same.
For creatures who fed on the fear and the suffering of others, a war on such a scale would be the richest feeding ground imaginable. The Concord was fighting a war to save all sentient beings from slow, horrible deaths. If allowed to continue unchecked, the Thetas would, no doubt, consume all life in an orgy of destruction and torture.
Admiral Shadovsky was offering Geoffrey a consulting position on Tebrey's team of Theta hunters. The Archangel Taskforce was a special forces unit comprised of people who had shown the courage and mental strength to fight against the Thetas. Geoffrey wouldn't officially be a member of the Concord military. He'd be a civilian working for Fleet Internal Security. For all practical purposes, he'd be military; he simply wouldn't have a service contract or rank. He would be able to leave at any time – at least theoretically.
The Madness Engine Page 4
