The Alien Web (Masters of Space Book 2)

by Robert E. Vardeman

  Kinsolving had no idea about the time scale for the distribution, either. All quarter million of the devices might be sent out tonight. Or tomorrow or in the next five minutes. He could sit and watch — but so what? What could he do to stop them? And an incredible amount of legitimate cargo entered and left the warehouse daily. How would he recognize the contraband?

  Another tack had to give a better chance for stopping the Plan.

  Kinsolving started walking back to the city, the consulate fixed in his mind more as a direction than a destination.

  *

  The city streets turned into an alien and exciting wonderland after dark. Strangely coloured lights shone everywhere, moving like beacons, dancing, shifting, emphasizing, hiding in glare and shadow. Kinsolving felt like a tourist come to the metropolis, gawking as he blundered through the dense crowds of arachnoids.

  Their wobbling gait caused him little trouble after the first hour of jostling. He adjusted his own and avoided most of them. And he quickly found out that most of the foot traffic bounced and headed aloft, following dangling cables, spinning strands of their own, clambering up the sides of sheer spires like the spiders they were.

  Kinsolving wondered if he attracted any attention. The way the arachnoids held their heads, turning at angles impossible for a human neck, made it impossible to tell. His clothing hung it tatters and blood seeped from numerous cuts and scrapes he had acquired. The burns on his legs and arms were apparent to anyone examining him in even a cursory fashion. And he could do little to hide the Box of Delights since his jacket had been reduced to rags.

  But not a single arachnoid stopped him. None showed any interest in him at all. For that Kinsolving thanked what little luck he still had.

  He settled onto what he took to be a park bench and stared across a grassy area dotted with tall trees. The cool wind rustling through the leaves soothed him and let him relax.

  “What to do?” he murmured.

  “How much?” came a shrill voice from behind. Kinsolving jumped to his feet, spinning to face an arachnoid almost able to look him squarely in the eye.

  “How much is what?”

  “The Box of Delights. You carry it boldly. This one’s has succumbed to fatigue and no longer produces the joy it once did.”

  “The battery is dead?” Kinsolving asked in surprise. The one in his hands had been built with an internal power supply powerful enough to overload a dozen or more killer robots. How much use had this spider being put his Box of Delights to? Or had he used only a feebler version? To hand over the one he had might mean the arachnoid’s brain death, Kinsolving realized.

  “Don’t last long. Go dead in a few days. This one yearns for recharging Boxes of Delights.” The spider shifted restlessly from one side to the other, mandibles hanging loosely under his mouth orifice.

  “What’s it worth to you?” asked Kinsolving.

  “Four days.”

  “A week — seven days,” counted Kinsolving, not even sure what they were bartering.

  “Done. Give this one your identicard.”

  Kinsolving fumbled out the identicard the consulate computer had furnished. The arachnoid took out a similar one and placed his on top of Kinsolving’s. A quiet, barely audible hum sounded and the arachnoid handed the identicard back. He had transferred a week’s food and lodging in exchange for the brain burner.

  Kinsolving handed over the plastic box, guilt burning brightly as he did so. He sought to stop the distribution of these insidious devices, not to help in their spread. But as the arachnoid rocked back on his four hind legs and eagerly took the box in his tiny pink hands, an idea came to Kinsolving.

  “I can charge your dead Box of Delights,” he said.

  The spider eyed him and finally shook his head. “No need, no need. This is enough.” With that, the spider being walked off. Kinsolving took a deep breath, then followed. This might prove more difficult than he anticipated if the spider took to the strands dangling from virtually every spire in the city of towering heights.

  Kinsolving sagged when he saw the spider grab a strand and spin off and upward, vanishing into the trees. He started at a jog, then broke into a run, gasping as he went. Above his head, the spider made good time sliding from strand to strand in the trees, then started up and across a web bridge between the tree at the edge of the park and a ten-story building some distance away.

  The man watched and took note of the window where the spider vanished. He dashed across the busy traffic-filled streets and entered the ground floor. It was not as hopeless as he had feared. Although the arachnoids had no need of personal elevators, they did use freight lifts. Kinsolving took the cargo elevator to the fourth floor and burst into a corridor completely strung with webs. He brushed several away — or tried. The sticky strands clung and burned where they touched bare flesh.

  Kinsolving ripped away more fabric and freed himself. He oriented himself, found the side facing the park and decided that this window — or aerial doorway without door panels — had been the one where the arachnoid addict had entered.

  The bare, brightly lit corridor had hundreds of small tunnels leading from it. Kinsolving frowned as he moved along, studying each tunnel. None seemed large enough to accommodate a being as large as the one he had sold the brain burner to, yet there seemed to be no other explanation for his abrupt disappearance. Kinsolving stared at the far end of the corridor and worried that the arachnoid had only passed through, using this as an aerial terminus. He shook such a notion out of his mind. The spider had to be here somewhere. He just had to, or Kinsolving’s entire plan had failed miserably.

  Careful study of the passageway showed minute, fresh scratches on one plastic-lined tunnel leading off at an angle. Kinsolving summoned up all the courage he had, then wiggled head first into the tunnel. The tunnel narrowed and cramped his shoulders, but he kept on.

  A sudden turn brought him to an unfurnished room large enough to hold four of the spiders. They had gathered around the Box of Delights. Kinsolving recognized the one who had purchased the cerium-crystal resonator. He hunkered down and chittered loudly, the other arachnoids listening intently.

  Kinsolving braced himself when the spider being reached out with two taloned legs and activated the brain burner. The surge of power assaulting him lasted for only a few seconds, then diminished rapidly. Kinsolving blinked and cleared his vision. The impact of using the brain burner had thrown all four arachnoids back. The one whose talons had activated it had collapsed into a heap against a far wall. A sickly smell that Kinsolving associated with death permeated the room.

  But two of the spiders stirred weakly, their legs waving about as they tried to stand. Neither succeeded.

  Kinsolving kicked forward and moved in the tunnel to where he could roll free into the room.

  He examined the nearest spider. The being’s light purple eyes were open and glassy. He saw no hint of life remaining. The two trying to stand made squeaking noises that soared past the limits of his hearing. From the way they thrashed about, Kinsolving did not think they would ever be useful members of arachnoid society. Their minds had been seared by the electronic blast.

  Kinsolving knelt beside the arachnoid who had triggered the Box of Delights. Small clickings came from the mandibles.

  “Are you able to speak?” he asked.

  At first the arachnoid answered in his native language, then shifted to a slurred speech that Kinsolving translated with difficulty. “Web. This one ruled the Supreme Web.”

  “The Supreme Web?” Kinsolving prompted. “What of it?”

  “This one decided for the world. Vibratory debates won. Strands of Power, all under this one’s power!”

  “Would you like to do more?” asked Kinsolving, hating himself for what he had to do. “You can rule the Supreme Web for all time. You need another Box of Delights. This one can be recharged and give even more intense pleasures.”

  “Recharged?”

  “Take the Box of Delights and get it re
charged. Think of the Supreme Web. Think of the, uh, vibratory debates!” Kinsolving’s voice rang with urgency and cut through the fog permanently burned into the arachnoid’s brain. Talon-tipped legs slid under a bulky body and lifted.

  Kinsolving silently handed the spider creature the box, not trusting him to find it without help.

  “More? How? Where does this one get another chance along the glorious strands of the Supreme Web?”

  “Take it back to the one who usually supplies your Boxes of Delights. The one who gives you the chance to attain the Supreme Web.” Kinsolving had no idea what he promised, but it motivated the arachnoid. The spider wobbled and bobbed around but headed for the tunnel that had brought it into this cubbyhole. With surprising agility considering its disability, the arachnoid vanished through the tunnel.

  Kinsolving fought down his rising gorge as he glanced around the room one last time. One spider had perished. The other two would never use the brain burner again — or do anything else for themselves. This was a scene that would be repeated millions of times unless the Plan could be stopped in time. He turned and followed the spider through the tunnel, listening to its chitinous talons clacking on the floor and walls ahead of him. Kinsolving tumbled into the outer corridor in time to see the arachnoid vanish out the window-door where he had entered from the park.

  At the window, Kinsolving stared down at the ropy strand of web stuff hanging in a catenary between the sill and a third-story window on the next building. The strand from the park almost drew Kinsolving like a magnet. He could slide down to the firm ground and not worry about falling. A ten-meter fall would not necessarily kill him but it would severely injure him, especially in his condition.

  “No time to think about it,” he said, looking across at the window-door where the arachnoid had disappeared.

  Kinsolving pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around his right hand, then threw the free end over the strand and grabbed hold of the cloth with his left. He never hesitated. He jumped.

  “Aieee!” The cry came out in reaction to the falling-sliding-speed sensation. Kinsolving barely had time to recover his senses when the window-door came rushing up at him. He got his legs up and braced before he crashed against the wall. The impact stunned him, but Kinsolving clung to his shirt. He dangled from the spider strand for a moment, then pulled himself up painfully.

  The friction from the slide had burned almost entirely through his shirt. Another few metres would have cut the cloth in half and sent him plunging to the street.

  “Luck,” he sighed. “So far, the luck’s been with me tonight.”

  It continued to hold in his favour. The arachnoid had negotiated its aerial walkway easily but found it almost impossible to navigate along the corridor. He smashed into the wall and simply stood, trying to forge ahead through solid plastic.

  Kinsolving put on the remnants of his shirt and hurried to the arachnoid. “The Supreme Web,” he whispered urgently. “Yours, if you find the one who sells you the Boxes of Delights. He can recharge it. Go. Find him and enter the Supreme Web!”

  This brought the arachnoid around. He made a start back toward the entryway, then continued listing in a tight circle until he found a small tunnel rimmed in dark orange plastic. He plunged into it, Kinsolving following closely.

  The arachnoid outpaced Kinsolving in the tight tunnel. Kinsolving came to the verge of the tunnel and peered into a room identical to the one in the other building. No furniture, plain grey plastic walls faintly luminous, several other entryways dotting the perimeter.

  The Box of Delights fell to the floor with a clatter. Shrill chittering sounds filled the air, giving Kinsolving a headache. From the way the other arachnoid held himself, Kinsolving knew that he did not enjoy being harangued. He imagined he knew what was being said.

  “Recharge the Box of Delights,” the addict demanded.

  “Impossible,” said the supplier.

  “Do it! I must attain the Supreme Web!”

  “For a price!”

  “Any price! Do it!”

  The arachnoid supplier took the brain burner and turned it over in his pink hands. From somewhere that Kinsolving could not see the arachnoid produced a long, thin cylinder and inserted it into the brain burner. The device hissed like a snake.

  More shrill chittering. The supplier handed the brain burner back to the addict, batting one taloned leg away when it was apparent that it would be immediately used.

  Kinsolving wondered if the supplier realized the danger in the new resonators. IM needed to maintain its network of distribution as long as possible.

  He had found a supplier. From this arachnoid he could learn where IM made contact, where it hid the brain burners after they left the warehouse. But how? Kinsolving had no idea how to interrogate an arachnoid, especially a criminal living on the fringes of society.

  A quick move carried Kinsolving into the room. He came to a squatting position. Neither arachnoid had noticed him. They continued their shrill argument. The addict did not worry Kinsolving. The initial contact with the resonator had burned out too many nerve centres for the being to present any real danger.

  But how was he to tackle the supplier?

  Kinsolving acted rather than thought. He dived forward, arms outstretched. He gathered in an armful of hairy legs and jerked as hard as he could. Five legs trapped, he dumped the arachnoid to the floor — hard.

  He rolled and tried to weave the legs into a tight knot. Almost instantly he realized this was not going to work. The legs kicked independently and with greater strength than he would have thought possible. He found himself flying through the air to crash into a wall.

  The arachnoid noisily complained and came to all eight legs. The mandibles clacked ferociously as the spider creature faced Kinsolving.

  “The Box of Delights!” Kinsolving called out to the addict. “Use it!”

  The supplier batted the brain burner from the weakened being’s hands. Then he advanced on Kinsolving, death etched on every feature of his alien face.

  Barton Kinsolving’s death.

  CHAPTER XVII

  Barton Kinsolving edged along the grey plastic wall, his eyes fixed on the arachnoid’s front legs. Those long, chitin-tipped weapons swung back and forth in a pattern that prevented Kinsolving from diving back into the tunnel. But even as this thought crossed his mind, he knew to try an escape like that would mean instant death. The spider being moved too quickly — and one long leg with the hardened tip would spit him before be wiggled a meter along the tunnel.

  “The Box,” he called frantically to the addict. “Use it. Return to the Supreme Web! You can leave behind all your misery. Do it, damn you, do it!”

  The arachnoid advancing on him reached out with a third leg and scooped up the brain burner, pulling it to a safe spot beneath his heavy body. Another leg pushed the addict away. The arachnoid shrilly voiced his displeasure with this treatment, but the brain burner had done its evil work; the spider addict could not control his legs properly. Kinsolving’s only hope for survival lay in getting the addict to activate the resonating device — and the chance for this had passed.

  Kinsolving feinted to the right, dodged left and tried to grab the Box. He would willingly kill both spiders in return for the massive headache using the Box of Delights gave him.

  His groping fingers missed the edge of the box by millimetres. A casual sweep of a powerful leg sent him reeling back, helpless, unable to even stand without support from the wall behind his back.

  “You will die, weakling human thing,” the advancing spider said shrilly. “Why do you meddle where you are not wanted?”

  “I need to reach whoever supplies you the Box of Delights.”

  “You disrupt trade. You disrupt this one’s serenity!”

  The arachnoid launched with incredible speed. Kinsolving could not have avoided the pouncing being had he been in top shape. The fights, the flight, the chase after the addict to reach this hidden warren all told on him. Summon
ing all his strength, Kinsolving barely moved his head to one side to avoid the heavy, talon-tipped leg that came smashing toward his face.

  He grabbed a middle leg and tried to wrestle the arachnoid down again. A blow on the top of his head sent him spinning across the room. He fell heavily. When he tried to rise, every muscle in his body refused to obey. He had been pushed beyond the limit of his endurance. Kinsolving collapsed and stared at the arachnoid bringing death to him.

  Chittering so loud it threatened to rupture his eardrums echoed in the small room. Kinsolving put his hands over his ears to shut it out. At first he thought it was the spider’s hunting cry. Then he realized that the supplier had frozen as if terrified.

  Legs shaking, head turning back and forth, the arachnoid gave every indication of fear. Kinsolving glanced toward the addict he had followed. This arachnoid also cowered.

  Kinsolving pushed himself to a sitting position, his sweating back against a cool plastic wall. The insane chittering rose in intensity, giving him a ringing in his ear to match the headache hammering like an ocean’s surf in his temples. As suddenly as it had begun, the shrill noise stopped. Kinsolving felt drained, as if someone had relieved him of the burden of life.

  From a tunnel on the far side of the room came a mottled red body and hairy legs. The new arrival shook several times, as if smoothing ruffled fur.

  “Quixx!” Kinsolving called.

  “Ah, the human thing who should have left this world and has not.”

  “I’m glad to see you. This…” Kinsolving’s words trailed off. Quixx ignored him and waddled over to stand directly in front of the Box of Delights supplier. Quixx lifted his two front legs and brought them together sharply — with the other arachnoid’s head caught squarely between. The impact dropped the supplier to the floor where he lay, not even twitching.