As Willis considered all this, something moved in her peripheral vision. Turning, she caught sight of something like a rat scuttling along a cable. One of the ratings swore and took a swipe at it. The creature easily dodged the blow and continued along.
“Yeah, we’ve seen a few of them,” one of her escorts told her. “Not hostile, but I don’t know what they are. Food? Pets?”
As he spoke Willis saw the creature reach a point where the cable had been severed by a bullet strike. The gap was tiny, but the creature stopped and twitched its nose as it examined the break. Then it sat up, its rear leg gripping the cable. Willis felt her mouth drop as she saw the creature had a small bag or pouch hanging from its belly, from which it pulled out what appeared to be a small length of cable and began to splice it into place to repair the break.
“Oh my god,” she murmured as she watched the tiny creature finish its work. It looked around then sprang towards another damaged cable.
“Quick, grab it!” she ordered, as the creature sailed across the chamber.
One marine’s armoured gauntlet closed on it and then it did the strangest thing yet – absolutely nothing. Even the most placid domestic animal would wriggle or struggle if grabbed like that. But this thing just stopped moving. It had been a good catch by the marine, he’d avoided crushing it and wasn’t holding it firmly, but the creature wasn’t making any movement beyond breathing.
“Some kind of biotech?” someone asked.
“Don’t know. Box it men. We’ll be taking a lot of samples.”
“They made their way through what were apparently accommodation areas, all of them showing signs of heavy fighting. There were bodies everywhere and in the distance there was still the occasional crackle of gunfire. They came into a large chamber with a lot of computer equipment, most of it still turned on – so some kind of command centre by the look of it.
“Bingo,” Willis said to herself, as she looked around.
“Captain!”
Willis looked up from the computer panel she was examining. Even after an hour they were only scratching the surface. They’d opened up several damaged pieces and found living tissue, indicating biological computers the like of which she’d never seen or even heard of before. There were more conventional electrical computers but they appeared to be backups. With her thoughts swirling, she didn’t take in what the marine said.
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Ma’am, Lieutenant Kinberg has asked you to join him. Ma’am we’ve found something.”
“What is it?” she asked, still half distracted.
“Captain, you need to see this!
Finally the marine’s tone penetrated her consciousness. He wasn’t just rattled – he was actively shocked.
The section of the station they led her to, did not seem to have seen as much fighting as others. Several marines were there and, while it was hard to read body language through space suits and body armour, there was a definite vibe of fear and anger.
As she approached Kinberg, Willis glanced towards the marine sergeant present. Through his visor she could see his face, a strong face, but after a moment she realised that the blobs of liquid inside his helmet were tears.
“What is it? What’s going on?” she demanded.
Kinberg looked sick as he waved her towards the hatch he was floating by. Willis pulled herself through – and stopped half way. The chamber looked like someone had thrown a bucket of blood around. A severed human arm drifted near the centre of the chamber. Two marine corpsmen were treating casualties – human casualties but not marines! Instead, maybe a dozen men and women were scattered around the chamber, all of them little more than skeletons, all of them naked.
“Movement was detected and Sergeant Lyons threw a grenade through the hatch,” Kinberg told her as the two of them returned to the command deck. He shook his head with an expression of genuine distress. “He didn’t know! No one told us there would be humans here!”
“No one knew Lieutenant,” Willis said before addressing Nisman via the communications link-up they’d established with the squadron.
“To be honest, sir, I think some poor brave bastard wrapped him or herself round the grenade. Otherwise it would likely have killed everyone in the chamber.”
She instantly regretted saying it within Kinberg’s hearing. It wasn’t the fault of the man who threw the grenade or any other marine. Based on the information available, the sergeant’s decision had been correct. Even so, the emotional part of her still wondered how he could have done such a thing.
“Any idea where the hell they came from, Captain?”
“They’re civilians sir, that much I’m sure of. Between Junction and Landfall, the bastards have had plenty of opportunities to capture civvies.”
Nisman’s expression was grim.
“The marines found a lab in a neighbouring compartment. The civilians were clearly being used for research and experimentation... vivisection and various other...” Willis had to swallow to force down the bile threatening to rise inside her. She’d taken a glance in the hatch and that had been enough. Given time, she’d process it mentally but for the moment, she had to force herself not to think about it.
“Various other procedures. I don’t know why they weren’t killed before we boarded, but it would appear the section of the station the prisoners were being kept in, was cut off from the rest by the first assault.”
She wondered whether this could in some way account for the dogged defence the Nameless had mounted. Had they known there was no way they could hide or destroy the evidence of what they had done? Had they guessed that this act would place them beyond any reconciliation or forgiveness?
“Have they said anything?”
“Not yet, sir,” she replied shaking her head. “Admiral, these people are in a bad way. Have you ever seen pictures of concentration camp survivors from the twentieth century?”
“Dear God, that bad?”
She nodded.
Nisman took a deep breath, clearly composing himself.
“Then we have a difficult decision to make. If those people have been experimented on, then they may have become biological weapons. We may not be able to take them with us.”
Beside her, Willis sensed Kinberg stiffen angrily. Outside the camera’s pick-up, she laid a restraining hand on his arm.
“Sir, we have a number of wounded marines with compromised suits. Unless we’re prepared to leave behind some of our own, that line has already been crossed. The other thing is, sir, I could spend six months in here and not find anything we can actually use. Those people offer the best chance of getting serious intel, but that will mean professional medical treatment on Earth.”
“Well, we don’t have six months,” Nisman replied. “We picked up another set of FTL transmissions. These didn’t come from the same direction we did. They came the other way and were definitely closer than the last lot. I don’t want the Nameless to know in what strength we are here or that we boarded their station. So in six hours we will evacuate and destroy it. In the meantime, get as much as you can.”
“Water, water, everywhere but not a drop to drink,” Willis muttered to herself as she surveyed the command area.
With the last of the Nameless eliminated, most of the marines were now actively assisting with the recovery effort, along with several more members of Spectre’s crew sent over to lend a hand. Pankhurst and the support ships had been called in, while a message drone had been dispatched in the opposite direction, back along the trail of satellites they’d left in their wake, to inform Earth of their discovery.
The Lennox, smallest of the support ships had been detailed to accommodate the survivors. Cargos were being hastily reassigned because once the civilian survivors boarded, the whole ship would be under quarantine. They also loaded up a dozen of the least damaged Nameless bodies. Two of them were dressed in outfits that seemed more high quality than the rest. Maybe they were officers? No way to know. The true prize sho
uld have been the computer, however. She’d examined the screen, but beyond establishing it was definitely writing, there wasn’t much more that could be determined. For all she knew the screen could be displaying the Nameless’s complete war plans – or someone’s shopping list.
“I wonder if those brain boxes are part of a security system?” Kinberg asked, gesturing toward De Gaulle’s doctor as he examined one of the bio computers. With their biotech construction, Kinberg – like the rest of marines – had quickly taken to referring to the Nameless computers as brain boxes.
“I mean as soon as we unplug them, the tissue inside starts to die.”
Examples of Nameless electronic computers had already being shipped out. But the bio computers could not be so easily moved however, plugged as they were not only into the electrical systems but some kind of nutrient feed that simply could not be replicated at such short notice. They could, and certainly would, take examples but it would be dead meat long, long before they reached Earth.
“That might just be an occasionally useful side effect,” Willis replied. “Biotech has a hell of a lot of disadvantages on the whole. But then brain tissue is gram for gram still the best computer the universe has ever seen.”
One of the marines approached and saluted.
“Captain, Lieutenant,” he began, “one of the civilian survivors has requested to speak to you.”
“Those people are supposed to be getting evacuated to the Lennox,” Willis replied.
“I know, ma’am, and he is in the last group to go over. He says it’s important.”
“Alright, escort him here.”
“Try to keep it quick though, Captain. These people are frail.”
The man gently guided into the control room was beyond frail. Skeletal would be closer and Willis doubted he could have even stood in anything approaching Earth gravity. He clutched a blanket but in zero gravity it floated around him, revealing pale and papery skin. All activity within the chamber came to a halt, as everyone else, dressed in space suits and combat armour, turned to look at the almost naked man. The corpsman gently guided him over to Willis.
“Hello,” she said uncertainly, “my name is Captain Faith Willis of the Battle Fleet ship Spectre.”
“Mateusz Bielski,” he whispered, “Junction Station.”
“What can I do for you, Mister Bielski?” she asked after deciding a firm tone was likely to serve best.
“You’re looking for information. I can help.”
“And you will, sir, when you’re debriefed, but I need you on the Lennox. We…”
“No!”
The force of his exclamation was enough to set Bielski off coughing. Doubled over, his frail body convulsed. Willis nodded to the marine.
“Get him out.”
Bielski’s claw like hand shot out and latched onto her arm. Beneath the suit she could feel her flesh crawl.
“No,” this time his voice was calmer, “I’ve been here.”
“Here? In this room?”
Bielski nodded.
“I’ve seen them use their computers. They brought me here to be examined and to interrogate me.”
“Did you see what controls they used?”
Willis’s voice was urgent now. He nodded and pointed to one of the freestanding computer terminals. Carefully, as if he were made of glass, she guided him over. Bielski studied the terminal for several seconds and then with a shaking hand he reached out and pressed several different buttons. A holo display at the centre of the terminal came to life.
“I don’t know if this is a password or just a command line,” he rasped, “but I saw it often enough to memorise. They wanted to know where our planets are.”
“Did you tell them?” she asked quietly.
“Yes,” he sobbed. “We tried not to but they...”
Tears floated from his face.
“It’s all right, it’s all right,” she tried to assure him.
The burns and bruises on Bielski’s wreck of a body told their own story.
Bielski steadied himself and worked the controls to bring up what looked like a list of files. He scrolled down and activated one particular file. The list disappeared and an image, not much more than a series of blips with writing beside, them appeared.
“What’s that supposed to tell us?”
Kinberg said what Willis was thinking.
“It’s a map,” Bielski whispered, pointing an unsteady finger into the holo. “We are here and here is Junction and here – here are their home worlds.”
Suddenly, like an optical illusion, Willis found she could see it.
“Oh my God,” she said breathlessly.
She moved slightly to the left and allowed her eyes to track downwards. The layout of the blips started to match standard two-dimensional representations of human space. There was Landfall, below was Junction Station and the rest of the Junction Line, and below that, highlighted in purple, the position of Earth. Her gaze went upwards. There, not as far above as Earth was below, lay a cluster of large yellow blips representing planets – Nameless planets.
Bielski’s hand closed around her arm.
“Captain, promise me one thing. Just one thing,” he said as he stared at her, his eyes burning with a ferocity that sent a shiver down her spine. Wordlessly she nodded.
“Promise me you will make them pay!”
Chapter Thirteen
Search for the Grail
20th July 2068
“Council members. Our analysis of the information provided by the De Gaulle task force is as yet incomplete,” Commodore Tsukioka told the gathering in the briefing room. “Examination of the data recovered and, more significantly, the interviews with the Junction survivors are at this time ongoing. In particular, the latter’s medical condition means that the interview process is slow. Therefore, I must qualify this briefing by saying that both revisions and corrections, are not just possible, but likely.”
He paused for any replies. But there was only a grunt from President Clifton that implied he should get on with it.
“The recovery of the Junction Survivors has finally lifted the veil from our opponent, giving us an insight into the history and mindset of the Nameless that we had never expected to receive and fills key gaps in the information provided by the Aèllr,” Tsukioka continued. “The majority of the information comes from the testimony of the survivor, Mateusz Bielski.”
“Obviously a strong-willed man and one we owe a great debt to,” Clifton observed. “But I am surprised that the Nameless interrogator was willing to hand out so much information.”
“Perhaps Madam President, their interrogator simply wasn’t very good,” Wingate said. “But it’s more likely that, in so far as they knew, there was no way any intelligence would get back to us, so handing out information in return for information cost them nothing. The fact that the Nameless attempted to murder them just before they were rescued might indicate that they realised the danger. But that is conjecture.”
“Before we get to the meat of the matter, Commodore, can you answer a nagging question? Do we now know what the Nameless call themselves?” Clifton asked.
“We believe so,” Tsukioka replied. “However, as it appears most of their vocal range is at frequencies too low for us to hear, we can’t use it. Besides which, it appears to roughly translate as ‘people’, so Nameless they remain. Most pertinently, one of the first things we have learned is that neither we nor the Centaurs were the first sentient beings the Nameless have attacked. We are in fact the fourth race to have been subject to their aggression.
“Their first act of genocide dates from the Nameless Diaspora period. As we know, the Nameless race depleted the resources of their home solar system, one located at the very tip of their arm of the galaxy. This latter point is important because as we now know, the distance they can jump from one system to another is limited. This meant that their jump drives – which were at this time newly developed – were operating at the ragged edge of their c
apabilities. The Nameless launched colony ships, most of which were lost, but at least one though which found a planet on which they could settle. The population that landed on this new world numbered only a few tens of thousands. With such small numbers their attention was, not unreasonably, fixed upon the surface. As a result they failed to observe an approaching alien vessel in real space until it was only a few weeks away from the planet.
“In contrast to their first encounter with us, the Nameless dispatched one of their ships to approach and open a dialogue with the alien vessel. It opened fire without warning, destroying the Nameless ship. It also launched projectiles towards the site of the only major settlement the Nameless had managed to build on the planet. However, while the Nameless ships of the period were crude compared to their modern designs, they were armed and they were jump capable. As such, once the attacking aliens had spent the element of surprise, they were outmatched by the jump capable Nameless and destroyed without further loss.”
“Do we know what the motivation of this other race was to mount such an attack?” the Indian Prime Minister asked.
“No,” Tsukioka replied. “But if the alien ship had made a real space passage across interstellar space, only to find another race already ensconced, they may have felt they had no choice. Whatever the reason, it proved catastrophic for them. This encounter seems to have had the most profound effect on the Nameless, for it was then that they developed the ideology that other sentient races cannot be allowed to exist – that other races, regardless to whether they are hostile or even capable of being hostile, are a threat. To them, even a benign race – simply through their consumption of resources – threatens the extinction of the Nameless.
The Last Charge (The Nameless War Trilogy Book 3) Page 26
