But it makes a certain kind of sense, he told himself. If they made the system more attractive, someone might come in and take it.
“Entering orbit now,” Jackson said. He grinned, nervously. “We’re here.”
“So we are,” Kevin said. An odd feeling gripped his chest. It took him a moment to realise it was nerves. He’d been in tight spots before, but this was very different. There would be no hope of rescue if the shit hit the fan. “The away team will gather in the teleport chamber.”
“Good luck, sir,” Jackson said.
“Don’t forget your orders,” Kevin said. “We’ll check in, every hour on the hour; if you don’t hear from us for over four hours, assume the worst. And if you don’t hear from us in a day, take the ship back to Earth. No heroics, Commander.”
“None will be taken,” Jackson assured him.
Kevin smiled as he walked through the ship’s corridors and into the teleport chamber. The alien was already there, standing somewhat apart from the five humans who made up the rest of the away team. Kevin nodded to each of them in turn, hoping and praying that they would be capable of maintaining their calm on the planet’s surface. None of them had any real experience with aliens, apart from the Horde. And the Hordesmen were hardly typical Galactics.
“All present and correct,” Edward Romford said. “And we’re all armed to the teeth.”
“Just be careful not to start something unless absolutely necessary,” Kevin warned. There were no gun control laws on Ying, but the humans would be badly outnumbered. On the other hand, from what they had been told, if they shot their way out of trouble no one would bat an eyelid. “Onto the pads.”
He stepped onto the final pad and activated the interface. “Energise.”
The world faded away in silver light, then reformed as something different. The heat struck him at once, a wave of warm air as hot as anything he’d felt in the Middle East, but carrying with it a whole series of unfamiliar scents. He felt his body start to sweat as he stood upright,, fighting against the planet’s stronger gravity. Despite the augmentations he’d had inserted into his body, he had the uncomfortable feeling that they were going to have real problems until they managed to adapt to the planet’s environment. It was nothing like Earth.
He looked around. They were standing in a small stone chamber, bright light pouring through two open windows. An alien clicked impatiently, motioning with one long tentacle for them to step off the pads and out of the room. Kevin stared at the alien for one long moment, then remembered his manners and led the humans past the alien and through the door. Who would have thought that an octopus-like creature could develop the ability to walk on land?
Outside, the smell was stronger, much stronger. Hundreds of thousands of aliens teemed through the city, moving between dozens of buildings that seemed to be built from stone, but in countless different styles. All of them seemed larger than life ... it took him a long moment to realise they were designed to accommodate all different races. A doorway sized for humans would have problems allowing a Hordesman to step through, he suspected. No wonder the Hordesmen had so disliked their starship. It hadn't been designed for their race.
Down one long street, there was something rather like a market. Here, aliens seemed to gather together in small groups of their own races, rather than mingling with other races. It struck him as odd until he recalled just how hard it was to find something that could be eaten by more than a handful of races. One race’s food might be another race’s poison - or worse. Here, where there were no laws to prevent accidental poisonings, it was well to be careful. Further down the street, there were stalls that seemed to be getting attention from everyone, even a handful of aliens that looked like giant spiders. Kevin couldn't see what they were selling.
“We’re going to need to get a hotel room,” Romford said. “Somewhere we can use as a base.”
“Yes, the alien chirped. “This way.”
***
Kevin had expected problems with getting a room suitable for human habitation. In hindsight, such fears had been completely groundless. The hotel managers wouldn't have any problems configuring their rooms to suit people from just about any race, from the walking lobsters to the giant spiders. Kevin assumed, as a matter of course, that the rooms were bugged, even though his check had revealed nothing. He rather doubted that the Horde had had access to up-to-date galactic surveillance technology.
Once they’d set up the room and sorted out how to use the facilities – the bathtub had clearly been designed for a much larger creature – Kevin, Romford and Cn!lss set out again, looking for the nearest library. It hadn't been too hard to find on the planet’s datanet – access, once again, cost a surprisingly high sum – but when they found it Kevin couldn’t help feeling disappointed. Instead of row upon row of books, there were a handful of alien computers and a librarian who looked like a giant monkey, complete with tail. It was silly to be disappointed, he knew, when countless races couldn't use human books. But it still felt disappointing.
Once they’d paid – again – the librarian paid them no heed as they accessed the terminal and started to hunt for tech manuals. Kevin had practiced endlessly with the interface he’d taken from Shadow Warrior, but it was still difficult to search through the sheer mass of data someone had uploaded into the alien system. It was nearly an hour before they managed to download a whole bundle of tech manuals the aliens probably considered primitive, too primitive to bother to classify. But then, would the United States try to classify the secrets behind producing a World War One-era dreadnaught? Or the secret of producing gunpowder? Somehow, Kevin doubted that anyone would bother.
We can work our way through the more primitive technology the aliens built, then use it to understand the underlying principles, Kevin told himself. The grave danger was becoming completely dependent on alien technology. But once humanity understood how it actually worked, they could start producing it for themselves – and maybe even improving on it. It was alarmingly clear that humanity would need to do more than just match the alien technology. They'd have to make improvements of their own.
He hesitated, then started the next series of searches. One of the concepts noted in the Horde databanks had been of cultural uplift, of a primitive race being helped to spacefaring status by a more advanced race. The Horde databanks hadn't actually gone into details – they’d certainly not been given any such assistance – but the library did have some files on the topic for anyone to see. Kevin copied them all, then sat back and waited while the information was transmitted to Captain Perry. If nothing else, they would have retrieved something the human race could use.
“We’ll have to come back,” he said, straightening up. The alien chair might have adapted to fit his posterior, but it still felt uncomfortable. “Carolyn and the others will have to go through it and see how the search can be adapted and improved.”
“Maybe we can establish a direct link from the ship to the library,” Romford suggested. “They could search the computer for themselves.”
“It would cost,” Cn!lss stated.
Kevin rolled his eyes.
He couldn't help feeling nervous as he followed Cn!lss through the streets, into what the alien had described as the premier trading ground for good and items that were illegal in certain parts of the galaxy. There were more and more aliens around, most of them carrying weapons and looking grim, while the skies were rapidly darkening as another sandstorm moved over the city. He looked up as sand started to pelt the city’s protective forcefield, causing flashes of brilliant lightning to glitter out high overhead. There was definitely nothing like it on Earth.
But the building they approached was surprisingly familiar, even though it was completely alien. Two guards, both monkey-creatures, eyed them suspiciously, then listened as Cn!lss explained they wanted to meet with the merchant. There was a long pause – Kevin’s interface warned him that they were being scanned – and then the door opened, revealing a darkened roo
m. The two humans exchanged glances, then followed Cn!lss into the warehouse.
Inside, the cold struck him at once. There had to be a forcefield keeping it inside, he thought grimly, as he struggled to pull his clothes around him. The floor was covered with ice, as if the inhabitant of the building wanted to sleep on it. Slowly, the darkness receded, just enough for him to see the outline of a colossal creature sitting in the centre of the room. For once, Kevin had some problems matching it to anything on Earth. From what little he could see, he had a feeling he should be very glad he couldn't see the entire creature.
“Greetings,” a voice said. The creature shivered, very slightly. “You have items to sell?”
“Weapons,” Cn!lss said. “Very crude, but very effective weapons.”
There was a long pause. “You will supply details,” the toneless voice said. “Now.”
Kevin’s interface reported that it was being asked for a file. Kevin hesitated, then sent the file containing the weapons information and specifications. AK-47s, he had been told, were crude compared to Galactic technology, but simple enough for the Horde to operate without breaking them regularly. But the downside was that the Galactics would have no trouble in duplicating the weapons. A few hours with a fabricator would be all they needed.
“Primitive,” the voice stated. “But effective.”
“Yes,” Cn!lss said, quickly. “And they can be reconfigured as necessary.”
“Indeed,” the voice agreed. “How many can you supply?”
Kevin stepped forward. “We can supply a thousand weapons and ten thousand rounds of ammunition right now,” he said. “More can be produced later, upon demand.”
The negotiation process went backwards and forwards for nearly an hour, as the humans showed their wares and waited to see how the alien reacted. Kevin wasn't too surprised to discover that most of their wares were almost worthless, but the alien seemed oddly impressed by some of the alcohol and human artworks. Eventually, the alien made an offer, which Cn!lss turned down and countered with one of his own. It was clear, Kevin decided, that Cn!lss had been doing the bargaining for the Horde. Or maybe that he should have been doing it, if he hadn't been allowed to do it. Eventually, they came to an agreement.
“I’ll have the weapons shipped down to the planet’s surface tomorrow,” Kevin said. They’d have to hire a landing strip, of course. That too would be expensive. “You can pay us the remainder of the balance then.”
“I may take some of your cargo on spec,” the creature offered. There was still no hint of feeling in its voice. As it inched forward, Kevin had a sudden impression of claws – lots of claws. He had to fight the urge to jump backwards. “It may be worth something to others.”
Kevin nodded. The alien had a very good reputation, according to Cn!lss, for driving a hard bargain, but he didn't try to cheat his clients once the deal was made. Indeed, if he did manage to find a market for anything else the humans had brought, he could be relied upon to set up the deal ... taking a commission for himself, of course. Shaking his head, he bowed politely to the alien and allowed Cn!lss to lead him out of the building. The two guards nodded their heads as they stepped past. Clearly, Kevin noted, they’d moved from potential problems to valued customers.
Outside, it was as hot as ever, but darkness had fallen over the city. It took him a moment to realise that the sandstorm had grown stronger, strong enough to block out the sun. Most of the aliens seemed to have fallen back into their buildings, leaving the streets almost deserted. A cold chill ran down the back of his neck as they started to make their way back to the hotel. Something didn't feel right ... old instincts, honed in Afghanistan, sprang to life. Something was definitely wrong. Mentally, he started scouting for ways to evade possible enemy contact ...
Cn!lss let out a noise as four aliens, four very familiar aliens, stepped into view. Kevin froze as the Hordesmen lifted their weapons, pointing them right at the humans. Their eyes scanned the humans quickly, then there was a brilliant flash of blue light ...
... And then Kevin crashed down into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Heinlein Colony, Luna
“Thank you for coming,” Rochester said.
Steve scowled at him. It had been 0300 on the starship when his interface had jerked him awake – and, for good measure, woken Mariko too. If it hadn't been an urgent call, he might just have given in to the temptation to go right back to bed. Instead, he’d taken the shuttle from Earth orbit to Heinlein Colony. If something had gone badly wrong, bad enough for Rochester to call him, it probably demanded immediate attention.
“You’re welcome,” he said, trying to remind himself not to snarl. Just because he was tired was no excuse for snapping at a subordinate. He’d heard plenty of stories about commanding officers who’d refused to allow their subordinates to wake them, even when the enemy forces were on the advance. It was one of the reasons Adolf Hitler had lost World War Two. “What happened?”
“A crime,” Rochester said, as he turned to lead the way into the colony. “Quite a bad one, I'm afraid.”
Steve winced. He’d been expecting something to happen ever since they started expanding the circle of recruitment wider and wider. Ex-military personnel tended to have some common sense, particularly the ones who had served in combat, but civilians could do some damn silly things from time to time. Or maybe it was an ex-military person. Some of them could be idiotic at times too.
“Shit,” he said. The legal code they’d devised was about to be tested, badly. “What happened?”
“From what we’ve put together,” Rochester said, “Daniel Witherspoon managed to get very drunk last night, probably from one of the illicit stills. While drunk, he started an argument with his wife that turned into a fight; he beat her pretty damn badly. And then his daughter tried to intervene and got beaten too. They’re both currently in the medical bay.”
Steve sucked in a breath. “How bad was it?”
“They would both have been sore for several days, according to the medics, if they hadn't been treated,” Rochester said. “The lack of any real damage is quite indicative.”
“Bastard,” Steve said. If Witherspoon had been so completely drunk he'd forgotten himself, it would have almost certainly resulted in considerably more serious damage. Instead, he’d managed to hurt both his wife and daughter without inflicting any permanent harm. Or, at least, without inflicting any permanent physical harm. Who knew how they would react after being beaten so badly? “Where is he?”
“In the cells,” Rochester said. “Jean is keeping an eye on him.”
Steve hastily accessed the interface and retrieved the file on Daniel Witherspoon. He’d been discharged from the army four years ago and, since then, had spent most of his time trying to hold down a succession of part-time jobs, while drinking heavily. Someone would probably claim, in hindsight, that recruiting him had been a mistake. But, looking at the file, it was clear that Charles had felt sorry for him. Witherspoon, out of the army, had had few skills that any civilian employers wanted or needed. He’d certainly never really tried to develop himself.
But there was no point in feeling sorry for him, Steve rebuked himself sharply. Maybe Witherspoon hadn't been able to get a break until now, but it didn't excuse beating his wife and child. Or ... had he turned aggressive because of his success? Steve had wondered, sometimes, what would have happened to him if he hadn't had the ranch? Would he have drunk himself into an early grave? Or would he have sucked in his pride and stayed with the military?
They reached the handful of holding cells and stopped. Jean D’Arcy looked up at them, then smiled. Tall, black, with hair cropped close to her skull, she looked formidable even without combat implants. And she’d held down a position of sheriff in Texas long enough to be utterly confident in her own abilities. When she'd been offered the post of Lunar Sheriff, she hadn't hesitated before accepting the job.
“It’s good to meet you at last,” she said. “I wanted to
thank you for this opportunity in person.”
“We can talk later,” Steve said. “For the moment, I want your impressions of our friend in there?”
“He’s claiming to be totally repentant,” Jean said. Her mouth twisted with distaste. “He’s lying, sir.”
Steve lifted an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”
“I've seen it before,” Jean admitted. “Some guy goes and drinks himself into a maddened state, then goes off and beats his wife. But the truly repentant ones act differently. This guy ... weeps and wails when he thinks he’s being watched, but goes quiet when he thinks he’s alone and unobserved.”
A Learning Experience Page 24
