Soon they were approaching the main gate at the camp’s perimeter and there was no more time to waste on hopeful diversions.
From the edge of the forest fronting the barrier nothing appeared amiss. A quick check with a communit indicated that the defensive perimeter was active and fully charged. Beyond, the three completed modules and the entrance dome stood as the team had left them; undamaged and apparently otherwise untouched. Within the expansive cleared grounds enclosed by the perimeter fence, nothing moved.
Concealed in the undergrowth, Tellenberg leaned to his left and whispered to Haviti, “Try and raise Araza one more time.”
She proceeded to do so, both verbally and via a series of electronic signals. None of them produced any response. The xenologist considered her colleagues.
“He’s dead, his communit is broken, and he’s not near the central communications console; he’s alive but choosing not to respond; he’s alive but not near a working communit; he could be severely injured and unable to reply; or we’re simply overlooking something.”
“Too many possibilities.” Having drawn his sidearm in spite of his companions’ concerns, Valnadireb held the distinctively thranx weapon securely with his right foothand and truhand. “None of them fill me with hope. Let us proceed cautiously and be ready for anything—most especially that which we do not expect and cannot predict.”
The main gate, at least, responded immediately and welcomingly to their verbal request for admission. There was no solid barrier to push aside. The space between two designated relay posts simply deactivated. Despite the indicators on both having switched from red to green, Tellenberg still found himself stepping through the gap a touch more briskly than was necessary. He felt better once he and his friends were all safely inside the perimeter.
With the gate reactivated behind them they headed quickly for the front entrance. The doorway there responded as efficiently as had the perimeter gate. Inside the dome everything was as they remembered having left it. Like discarded skins, bio-hazard suits hung neatly on the main clothes rack off to the right. Supplies, some of them still half unpacked, filled storage shelves off to the left while sealed containers lay stacked on the floor where they had been unloaded. The absence of any indicators of violence was almost as disturbing as if they had found blood on the floor and damage to the interior.
The integrity of their individual quarters had not been violated. Even the dining area was unaffected, with the exception of one overturned chair that hardly constituted a significant disturbance. In their haste no one noticed the slightly blurred interior panel where part of one wall had automatically repaired itself.
Finding themselves in the galley area, they took a break from their inspection long enough to eat. Barely heated food was downed quickly, with no thought given to proper digestion. Everyone was still far too nervous and uneasy to relax, even at the dining table.
“What now?” N’kosi’s words filtered out around the edges of the sandwich that filled most of his mouth. He was swallowing without hardly bothering to chew.
“Security.” Haviti was seated next to him. “I suggest starting with the morning we left and running back all internal recordings first. If they don’t show anything we can move on to the tridee from the external pickups.”
“That may be premature.”
Both of them turned. Tellenberg looked across the table. Behind N’kosi and Haviti, Valnadireb was straddling his narrow bench. A truhand held food while a foothand clutched a spiral-spouted thranx drinking vessel. Another truhand was holding his communit. The xenologist was concentrating on the instrument and not his food.
“I thought that while I was eating I would set my unit to run an activity scan. It picked up a lot of the kind of noise I expected: autosystems cycling, security monitoring, water purification in progress, lights and other proximity-activated equipment going on and off in response to our presence. There is one set of readings, however, that demands more detailed scrutiny.”
Haviti put down her cup of kava derivative. “Where’s the activity? In the lab? Outside the perimeter?”
Slipping off his bench, Valnadireb set his unfinished food and drink aside. “Indications are that multiple systems are being cycled within the shuttle.”
There was a flurry of movement as the four scientists hurriedly finished or set aside the rest of their food. As they raced back toward the main entrance N’kosi suggested anew that they draw their weapons. Again he was voted down.
“Not a good idea. As Val said, premature.” Haviti turned a corner. “If it’s Salvador, and I can’t imagine that the shuttle is cycling the systems in question by itself, we don’t know what kind of shape he’s in. Physically or mentally. He could be injured, he could be panicky, he could be frightened.” She glanced over at Tellenberg.
“Besides, as Esra pointed out, there are four of us and only one of him. When we get there, let’s make sure we stay spread out. Not so much that it looks like a deliberate tactic, but enough so that if Salvador exhibits tendencies toward the homicidal he’ll have to choose one of four separate directions in which to aim.”
“That’s encouraging,” Tellenberg commented dryly.
She threw him an unblinking, no-nonsense look. “Just being careful, Esra. That’s what you do in the field when you find yourself confronting fauna that might present unknown dangers.”
He did not reply. Despite his sardonic comment, he had been thinking along exactly the same lines.
Located well away from and behind the established camp, the shuttle had been hidden from view when they had first stepped out of the forest. Their natural and proper inclination had been to investigate the buildings first. Now they found themselves slowing as they approached the craft. Though only a few external telltales were alight, they were sufficient to verify Valnadireb’s finding. A soft but powerful hum emanating from deep within the vessel confirmed it.
Following Haviti’s recommendation they spread out. There was no movement outside the craft. The loading ramp was down and deserted. Advancing with caution, Tellenberg and N’kosi started toward it. A voice stopped them.
“You are looking for me, I suppose.”
From where they were standing everyone whirled simultaneously to gaze in the direction of the calm, familiar accent. Emerging from the nearby portable workshed, Salvador Araza came toward them. Though Tellenberg’s fingers twitched anxiously he did not reach for his sidearm. Not because he realized that the phonic stiletto that hung loosely from the fingers of the technician’s right hand could be raised and aimed before the xenologist could draw his own weapon. Instead, he was stunned into inaction and an immediate response was forestalled by the unexpected spectacle of the tech’s attire. The sight of the dark garb had an equally immobilizing effect on the xenologist’s companions.
Recognition was as immediate as it was disbelieving. What Araza was wearing was as distinctive as the uniform of a Church peaceforcer, though inexpressibly less welcome. The foil-inscribed skullcap, the black jumpsuit, the distinctive and unmistakably hostile belt buckle were as well known to the four xenologists as to any casually well-informed citizen of the Commonwealth. Clearly, Araza no longer felt any need to hide his true identity or principal occupation. One could study to become a technician. To become a Qwarm, one had to be born or adopted into the secretive clan. His present appearance not only redefined him, it silently and simultaneously addressed most of their questions as to how the captain came to meet his untimely and unexpected end.
Most, but not all.
Haviti’s right hand kept fluttering back and forth, back and forth, like a timid bird unable to decide where to perch, as it hovered indecisively in the vicinity of the field sidearm she wore holstered at her waist.
“We found Boylan. You killed him.” It was not a question. “Why?”
As Araza approached the loading ramp Tellenberg and N’kosi slowly backed away. They did not take their eyes off their fellow expedition member.
“
Nicholai Boylan was a good captain and a hard worker.” The Qwarm’s words were grudgingly complimentary. “If he had worked as hard at paying off the debts he had accumulated as he did at managing this mission, I would not be here. He would even now be safely inside his living quarters, probably raving and ranting about some perceived trivial oversight, and you would now be speaking to a different specialist. Someone for whom technical repair and maintenance was his or her only profession.”
Off to his left, one of Valnadireb’s foothands had edged close to his own weapon. Araza barely looked in his direction, but the brief narrow-eyed glance was enough to persuade the thranx to let his four-fingered hand slide away from the gun.
“I was able to obtain the tech position on this unpretentious expedition through means and manipulations that need not concern you. My clan has many contacts. Had this been a major first contact voyage to an important new world, personnel screening would doubtless have been more vigorous. The true nature of my real occupation might have been discovered, or at least suspected. That it was not is a credit to those among my peers who have devoted themselves to the less visible but no less important facets of our profession.”
N’kosi’s fingers continued to feather the air in the vicinity of his pistol. “If you were hired to kill Boylan—”
Araza interrupted the xenologist. “I was hired to give him one last chance to pay what he owed. And failing that, yes, to extract recompense in full. The only thing those who contracted for my services abhor worse than nonpayment of a debt is the flaunting of such nonpayment. It makes them look bad. It makes them look stupid. It tends to encourage others to default. This is bad for any business.”
“I didn’t see anything that would lead someone to believe Boylan was flaunting something like that,” Haviti remarked. “He certainly never mentioned it.”
The Qwarm turned toward her. “Why should he? There was no reason for him to bring it up to any of you, his crew. Be assured that he did allude to it, repeatedly, in other places and times where circumstances assured that his injudicious loquacity would get back to those to whom he owed the money. They felt chafed. Laughter had been induced at their expense.” Araza straightened slightly, almost as if he was coming to attention in the presence of his unseen employers. “Safer to shoot at such people, better to beat them, than to make them the butt of cheap jokes. They do not take kindly to such embarrassment.”
N’kosi tried again. “If you were hired to kill Boylan, why did you wait as long as you did? Why didn’t you just shoot him on the ship, while he slept? Or as soon as we arrived on Quofum? Here, you could have made it look like an accident.”
Araza’s voice never changed, never altered, from its cool, calm, utterly collected tone. “I did not kill him on the ship because the vessel was new to me and I wished to be confident of its confines and secure in my knowledge of its functions. I did not kill him as soon as we arrived because—as surprising as this may sound to you—I was initially more interested in what might be learned here. There is always profit to be gained from new discoveries.” One hand gestured at the surrounding forest.
“There is clearly money to be made from this extremely strange world. A great deal of valuable information has already been uploaded to storage on the ship. It will provide the clan with a welcome bonus in addition to what they have already been paid for the specific task I was assigned to carry out here.”
N’kosi stepped reflexively forward. “That information belongs to Science Central and to every citizen of the Commonwealth.”
“A noble sentiment, and one that does you proud.” Araza smiled thinly at the protesting xenologist. “Sadly, yet another government promise that must perforce go unfulfilled.”
Haviti went cold. They had to do something, to act, and quickly. Someone had to make the first move while the opportunity to do so still presented itself. Moving slowly and carefully, she determined to draw her weapon and shoot. All those years spent buried in studies and academics, she mused apprehensively. If only she’d had some military training. Should she try to pull her sidearm quickly and fire? Or would her chances be improved by working as slowly and inconspicuously as possible? Perhaps one of her colleagues would do something to draw more of Araza’s attention. In trying to decide how best to proceed and what to do next, she ended up doing nothing.
It was to N’kosi’s credit that his voice did not crack as he asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. “Are you going to kill us, now?”
“Not at all.” This time the smile that accompanied the Qwarm’s response was slightly wider. It was almost, but not quite, genuine. “I was hired to extract recompense from Nicholai Boylan: not from any of you. Through no fault of your own you have become unfortunate accessories to an awkward set of circumstances.
“However, it must be obvious to each of you that I cannot allow you to return with me.” He raised a hand to forestall N’kosi’s reply. “There are no promises that would suffice, no assurances you can possibly give that one or all of you would not eventually decide to convey to the authorities a full or partial accounting of what has transpired here, thereby placing myself individually and my clan collectively at risk of prosecution.
“By the same token, I must take steps to ensure that you are not rescued and thus placed in a position to give such damning information. This can be done without murder. As integrated identifying factors make it virtually impossible to adequately disguise and therefore resell a Commonwealth government starship, once the Dampier has been stripped and gutted of all useful equipment and stores and its AI has been suitably disabled, removed, or reprogrammed, the vessel’s shell will be placed in a suitable orbit to be discovered by the authorities. Finding it thus scavenged and abandoned, they will assume that you, its crew, either participated in its demise or were lost while defending it. With the craft being rediscovered within the borders of the Commonwealth, there will be no logical reason for the authorities to assume that anyone remains here on Quofum. Therefore, no relief or rescue mission will be mounted.
“I am honestly sorry. You have been redefined, for want of a better description, as collateral loss.”
Tellenberg spoke up. “Do you really think you can make it back to the Commonwealth and to a habitable world all by yourself?”
Araza turned to confront the xenologist. “Do you really think I would have accepted this assignment and come all this way without confidence in my ability to do exactly that? While there are exceptional occasions on which a Qwarm will consent to a suicidal mission, this is not one of them. You know as well as I do, Esra Tellenberg, that a modern KK-drive vessel is operated and navigated by its AI, and that an organic presence such as Captain Boylan is required only for supervisorial purposes. Interstellar space-plus navigation being what it is, no human or thranx or representative of any other organic species is capable of the mental contortions necessary to effectively fly such incredibly complex craft. Only a machine can do that. I assure you that the one controlling the vessel that brought us to this world will respond to my commands and requests as readily as it did to those of the recently deceased Mr. Boylan.” His smile vanished.
“It will be especially responsive under ‘crisis’ conditions. The crisis in this instance being my need to return to orbit around a certain world without being observed by Commonwealth Science Central while doing so.” He turned back toward the boarding ramp.
“I would have left yesterday after concluding my work here, but there was some minor trouble with the shuttle. I thought it better to make certain everything was working at maximum efficiency before departing. I was just about to be on my way when you arrived, thereby avoiding any need for this present discussion.” He eyed them all in turn, lizard-quick, without spending more than a second or two appraising each of them individually.
“Perhaps this way is better. I, of course, feel no remorse at carrying out my assignment, but I shall take some satisfaction in knowing that I was not obliged to perform any unnecessary additio
nal murder. The Qwarm pride themselves on efficiency and an absence of untidiness.”
“‘Untidiness’?” N’kosi gaped at him. “If you leave us here and allow the empty ship to be found back in the Commonwealth then you’re killing us as surely as if you put a hole through each of our heads, just like you did to Boylan! What about the hostile natives? We’ve barely been here a week and they’ve already succeeded in penetrating the compound once. Even if you leave us alive, sooner or later they’re likely to slaughter us.”
Araza shrugged indifferently. “Maybe you can join the alliance of the stick-jellies and fuzzies against the spikers and the hardshells. That’s assuming the stick-jellies and the fuzzies don’t try to kill you, too.” Turning away from him, he started up the ramp.
An increasingly desperate Haviti took a couple of steps forward. “You can’t do this, Salvador! You can’t abandon us here with no means of getting back or expecting relief. It isn’t civilized!”
Partway up the ramp he paused to look back at her. “Every civilization redefines itself, Ms. Haviti. The Greeks thought the tribes of the British Isles uncivilized. Later, the British thought the Hindus uncivilized. The American tribe believed those of Islamic faith to be uncivilized. When the thranx first encountered humans, they believed us to be uncivilized. Today we know that all the so-called nations of primitive one-world Earth were nothing more than glorified tribes, as barbaric and uncivilized as all the various other smaller tribes who preceded them. The only difference was that their huts were bigger. They fought and warred among themselves over such inconsequentialities as personal faith and combustible hydrocarbons, over the accumulation of simple metals, and even the percentage of melanin some people carried within their skin. Every sentient being contains within themselves their own individual standards and definition of what it means to be civilized. Frequently that definition excludes everyone in the universe except themselves.” Once more he turned away.
Quofum Page 14
