“Captain, what chance is there that there are any survivors?” his second officer asked.
The station held a contingent of 90. Baron pointed at the destruction. “What do you think?”
Dr. Frunhomme looked up from the silent instrument panel. “We have to get closer. We have to capture one.”
Baron snorted. “And how do you propose we do that? Look what they’ve done to that station! Dru was right; we have nothing on this ship strong enough to hold them.” He looked at his weapons officer. “Sergeant Myers, are the weapons ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Arm the torpedoes and fire them at the station.”
“You can’t do that!” Dr. Frunhomme roared. “There might be survivors.” But even he knew that possibility was small.
“Dr. Frunhomme,” Baron replied tiredly, “we have received no communications from Station Ganymede in nearly a week. You even said no one was alive.” He looked around the chamber at his crew. “From what we are seeing now, can any of you honestly believe anyone on Ganymede has survived?” Their continued silence was his answer.
Only the scientist protested. “The purpose of this mission...”
“...is to discover what has happened at Station Ganymede,” Baron finished. “We now know that. These creatures, whatever they are, cannot be allowed any farther.”
“But the scientific knowledge...”
Baron stood and glared down at the scientist. “The hell with knowledge! Dr. Frunhomme, the mining conclaves on the asteroid belts are not that far from here. Would you care to imagine what damage these creatures could do there? Sergeant Myers, you have my orders. Fire the torpedoes; destroy the station.” And God forgive me.
The ship shuddered as the weapons were launched. The crew silently watched as the torpedoes streamed toward the helpless research facility. They silently watched as, one by one, the weapons exploded at various parts of the station. They silently watched as the reactor within the station erupted, destroying what little remained of Station Ganymede. They silently watched as the creatures rose out of the fire. And began flying toward them.
“My god,” Marinovich whispered, “they’re still there.”
Baron looked at Dr. Frunhomme and smiled sarcastically. “Do you still want to capture one, Dr. Frunhomme?”
The scientist stared at the screen, at the destruction the explosions had wrought. And how ineffective the weapons had been against the creatures. “What are we dealing with?” he asked no one.
“Officer Ryan, send a message to headquarters. Tell them what has happened. Tell them,” Baron watched as the creatures approached, “we may not be coming back.”
Thoran Dru stood at the entrance of a foreboding cavern. Within the ebony sky flashed streaks of oranges, greens, yellows and reds. Rivers of lava from erupting volcanoes curled around his feet. In his spirit state he could speak and hear only, so he was oblivious and impervious to the stench of ammonia, the overwhelming heat, the tang of sulfuric acid in the air. The premonition of evil beyond, however, was nearly overwhelming. Dru walked into the cave.
Unholy screams erupted sporadically as he made his way through the passage. The phosphorus on the walls gave sufficient light to guide him, although the screams would have been enough. Time held little meaning here, he felt he had walked for hours when the light before him grew in intensity. He turned one more corner and found himself in a vast chamber.
It was familiar from the description in the Grimoire. On the walls hung paintings of ghastly scenes which, he knew, had been inscribed on the tanned hides of humans. A large oval table dominated the center; made of obsidian, its surface was decorated with silver symbols. A giant throne built of bones dominated the far back wall. On either side chained gargoyles stood guard. The demon Bhasthelia occupied the throne. On his lap an infant gargoyle was playfully pulled apart some smaller creature. Those were the screams that had guided him.
The demon watched as Dru took a chair at the table. His forked tongues slid out from between his great fangs. “Look what has come to us, Paheson and Idderya. A poor wayfarer who has lost his way. Be sure to guard the silverware.”
The gargoyles snarled while Bhasthelia laughed. Dru ignored them. Instead he picked up the scrying crystal that set in the center of the table. Looking within, he could see the remains of Station Ganymede, his own ship, the gargoyles beginning their attack. He glared at the demon. “You have broken the covenant.”
“And you have broken my meditation. I shall have to destroy you for that.”
“Some other time. Why have you broken the covenant?”
“The covenant?” He flicked out a taloned hand as if swatting away a fly. “Ah, a mere piece of paper, nothing more.”
Dru maintained his cold yet level tone. He knew he could not show any emotion save total confidence in his own power. Otherwise he would be lost. “The pact was made in blood and souls. You have not the right nor the power to break it.”
Bhasthelia rose and shook his wings and tail. “What do you know of the covenant, mortal? You I do not know. You have never had the courtesy or courage to visit me previously.”
Dru returned the crystal to the talon that served as its stand. “You may call me master. That will suffice. Now answer me. Why did you break the covenant?”
The demon shrugged his wings. “My minions were bored. I decided to grant them a holiday.”
“Their vacation is over. Summon them back.”
“But why? As you can see,” he continued as he took a seat across the table, then pointed to the crystal, “they are enjoying themselves. They’ve worked hard for me. They deserve their relaxation.”
“Is it necessary I summon Merlin? Crispian Peters? Shi’an Liu? Abdul Monhannan? Mosubatu? Prester John?” Dru began to recite the memorized spell.
The demon’s inner eyelid folded over. “That will not be necessary,” he interrupted quickly.
“Then recall them.”
He leaned forward. “And what do I receive in return? You have no soul with you to barter. Except yours, of course.” He leaned back and arched his tail. “But that will be adequate recompense.”
“For obeying me you earn your continued existence. Fhennezel would be most interested in your little adventure. Perhaps I shall tell him of your insubordination.” Dru sat back and folded his hands. “My silence is your only reward for compliance.”
Bhasthelia’s wings shook slightly. “You have no right, mortal. You have no right to be in my realm, to threaten me on my world, within my own chambers!”
Dru picked up the crystal and held it before the demon. Within the glass he could see the gargoyles swarming closer to his ship. He knew he had little time left. “Bring them home. Now.” Again he began to recite the spell. The air begin to shimmer around them as other human spirit forms began to appear.
“Enough!” the demon roared. “I acquiesce, human.”
“Master.”
The demon spat out the word.
Leaning over the scrying crystal, Dru and the demon began to intone together. “Agrus driscanto candistra...”
“Our weapons are having no effect, captain. And we’re still receiving no readings from our instruments.” Marinovich slammed her fist on her mute sensors in disbelief.
Dr. Frunhomme sat drenched in sweat as he watched the scene broadcast by the shipboard cameras. The creatures, hundreds of them, seemed to be flying at a leisurely pace, almost as if they were mocking him and the crew. Occasionally there would be a flash of scarlet as another projectile exploded among them, but Hunter3’s weapons did little more than knock them backward. Then they would gather themselves and continue their advance. “What matter of creatures are these?” he continued to mutter to himself. He looked at Baron. “Captain, you have to get us out of here. Now!”
“I will take that under advisement.”
The scientist jumped from his seat? “Are you mad, you moron? We can’t stop these things! We have to get out of here!” He grabbed the mongoloid
by his lapels. “I order you to get us out of here.”
Baron grasped the doctor’s hands and pulled them slowly, firmly off him. “I cannot allow these creatures to attack the asteroid settlements. Helmsman, maintain our position. Sergeant Anderson, will you please escort Dr. Frunhomme to his stateroom. Make sure he stays.” He stared into the scientist’s eyes. “For his own safety.”
Baron paid no attention to the curses as the scientist was led away. “Officer Marinovich, the good doctor was lacking in useful suggestions. Do you have any?”
“Sir,” she said, exasperated, “I have no idea what they are either. Obviously brute force isn’t the answer.”
“Perhaps we can outwit them.”
“Sir?” Marinovich favored her captain with a puzzled look.
“Just a joke. Mr. Myers, what haven’t we tried?”
The weapons officer looked up from his console. “About the only thing besides the kitchen sink is the frequency silencer. But that’s just used to jam sensor input on other ships. I can’t imagine it would do anything more than tickle them.”
“Sir,” Marinovich interrupted nervously. “They are getting very close.”
“Duly noted.” Baron looked at Myers. “Try it. Full strength, blanket signal.” he sighed. “Maybe they’ll laugh themselves to death.”
Ryan adjusted the dials, then reached for the activation button...
“...phrestero omdium.” The two finished the spell in unison. Almost instantaneously a brilliant flash erupted in the scrying glass. When Dru looked again, the Hunter3 was floating alone in space.
Dru stood. “I will leave you now, Bhasthelia. Do not force me to visit you again.” The demon made no reply as he walked calmly from the chamber.
...when almost immediately there was a great explosion of blue light. When the cameras readjusted the crew found itself staring only at the wreckage of the Ganymede.
“Marinovich, what has happened?” Baron managed to ask after he caught his breath.
“I, I don’t know.” She stared at the overhead screen. “They’ve just... vanished.”
“Yes.” But where? How? “Officer Ryan, inform headquarters what has happened. Congratulations, Mr. Myers. Your suggestion worked.”
He blushed. “Thank you, sir, but I have no idea why.” He paused. “I’m not even sure the signal was activated.”
“You must have, Mr. Myers. That is what we’ll put in our report.” It would be a report which, deep down, he could not believe himself.
Thoran Dru was cold and exhausted when the suspension chamber revived him. He crawled out, then immediately entered the ionizer shower and vacuumed himself off. He was certain Baron would be there soon, if for no other reason than to check on him. He had enough to explain and bloody symbols painted all over his body would stretch his friend’s already fragile confidence in him.
He had managed to restore most of his more arcane tools to his packing cases or his desk when he heard a familiar knock on his door. “Come in, John.”
Baron entered and immediately raised a questioning eyebrow when he saw the suspension chamber. He pointed to it. “You find our beds uncomfortable?”
“I find it revitalizing. When used discretely. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been of more help.”
“Dr. Frunhomme wasn’t, either. But we destroyed them.” He paused. “Or at least I think we did.”
“Congratulations. How?”
He shook his head. “It makes no sense. We hit them with everything we had and they just laughed at us. I could have ravaged an entire planet with what we threw at them. A simple signal jammer. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“I think you’ve earned this.” Dru handed him a glass of claret. “An excellent vintage I’m sure you’ll agree. What does our doctor friend think?”
“He’s going over the visual reports now. We still have no other readings. He thinks perhaps they generated some type of dampening field. Somehow our radio signal countered it, altered the phase or something. Or maybe it just hurt their ears. He thinks they can generate warps in space, that’s how they disappeared so quickly and completely.”
“Maybe they were called home,” Dru offered softly.
“Pardon?”
Dru smiled and shook his head. “Nothing.”
“In any event we have informed both headquarters and the asteroid colonies. The necessary equipment is already being transported. I just hope they never have to use it.”
“They won’t.”
Baron stared at his friend for a moment, then reached a decision. He reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out a communiqué. “This came from Admiral Sharkey. It’s the real reason I came. Would you care to explain?”
Dru scanned the message. The admiral was angry and upset because Dru was present on the mission. He had never heard of Dru, had never ordered Dru to be present, and demanded Dru be held in confinement until the Hunter3 returned. He suppressed a smile. Obviously the influence of his dreamwalk had worn off. “I guess my charade is finally over. I will comply with your orders, I promise you. I will remain in these quarters until we return.”
Baron retrieved the message. “Why?”
“I told you. I had to be on this mission.”
Baron took a sip of wine. “You aren’t going to tell me what really happened, are you?”
“The issue is complicated.”
“Right.” Baron set down his half-empty glass. “Fortunately,” he said, rising, “you are no longer in the military, so we can’t court-martial you. At the minimum, however, I can guarantee that you will have a very difficult time getting clearance to go off-world again. I will see to that.”
“I’ve lost my taste for space. There are plenty of other places to visit.”
“I will have an officer posted outside your room. He or she will have orders to detain you.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m sorry, Thoran. Despite everything, I’m glad to see you again.”
He accepted it gratefully. “Someday I’ll tell you. I promise.”
Baron favored him with one more lingering look. “You look like you’ve been through hell, Thoran. Get some rest.” Then he left, locking the door behind him.
Dru sighed. His old friend would never believe him, of that he was sure. “I wonder what they serve prisoners these days?” I hope it’s more than bread and water. He took another sip of wine.
Second Stage
Casian Porteau sat on the edge of the brook, dangling her feet in the water. She could easily spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing in the warm breeze, perhaps get a bit of a tan. Then she looked down at her computer pad and sighed; wouldn't do, wouldn't do. Her instructions were clear; this planet was too promising for a leisurely evaluation of the native life. The voice of her superior came unbidden and unwanted. Make your report. And soon.
This was not how exobiology worked, she thought. According to all the textbooks, the lectures and case studies, a reasonable evaluation of a planet's flora and fauna required years, not weeks. But then, her employer was not concerned about being reasonable. The Federation directive was clear: a planet with intelligent life had to be avoided at all costs lest human interference affect the natural development of the native race. Scientists applauded it, the corporations did not. And Magus 7 Prime offered outstanding profit potential... if it could be exploited.
Casian activated her computer and scanned the initial data submitted by the first wave of explorers. Most of the native life had already been catalogued, with nothing of interest found. There were no relics that suggested tool-making capability or any other recognized signs of notable intelligence. She was tempted to merely follow the company's wishes and declare the world open for exploitation, but that would jeopardize her career if her findings were later proven wrong. So for the dozenth time since her arrival, she studied the list of fauna and reached the same negative conclusions for each. Flora she ignored completely; the Federation had yet to discover any intelligent plant life and she had no way to test it in any even
t.
A scream of pain interrupted her musings. An animal was being attacked, she realized. What I do in the name of science, she thought as she went to investigate. It didn't take her long. She found several weasels in a nearby clearing ripping away at a smaller animal they had just killed. They weren't weasels, of course, but the name fit them well enough. Small and furry and particularly vicious. They ignored her as they continued their feeding frenzy. She had observed them several times and they had been indifferent then as well. They did not consider her a threat and, she was relieved, not prey either.
Which, to her, spoke volumes about their potential intelligence. The more intelligent the animal, the more cautious and curious it became. These creatures appeared only interested in killing and feeding. Still she waited until the weasels had finished, then reached into her bag, retrieved a piece of raw meat, and threw it several feet from her.
One warily approached her offering, almost immediately joined by the others. After a few seconds they attacked it and each other, ignoring her completely. Casian sighed. Again they revealed no concern for their safety, no instinct for self-preservation. They were merely eating machines and not worth more consideration. Unless, of course, they tried to eat her.
She glanced at her watch. Watching the weasels had made her hungry. The post would be serving mess in half an hour. Gathering her equipment, she started back.
The post commander joined her at her table. This was a corporate operation but they maintained an air of military organization to simplify the chain of command. "Miss Porteau," he greeted her brusquely as he sat down. "Have you anything new to report?"
Before & Beyond Page 13
