by Chris Ward
The tentacle turned in on itself and rushed toward the grinding machine-house of the Helix’s core like a hand bringing food to a mouth. Everything seemed to expand as they reached it, so when Raylan would spot an entranceway he believed to be their destination, it would turn out like an optical illusion. By the time they reached it and sped past, the tiny entranceway had expanded to the size of a space cruiser.
How long they were fed like bird feed into the seemingly endless maw, Raylan didn’t know. By the time the tentacle finally put them down on a small platform outside a door that was—of all things—made of wood, Raylan had a desperate need to urinate.
Creatures three times the height of an average human appeared out of the shadows. If they had limbs, they were hard to discern because their bodies were constantly shifting. What was a head one moment had become a leg the next. Raylan, his catlike eyes far better able to study them than Kyle’s or those of his guards, realized they were speed-evolving, living masses of DNA, transmorphing tissue and biotech searching for the most appropriate shape. They were, essentially, Bareleon-pures, creatures that would one day break free of the Helix, disappear into the galaxy and go to war with themselves until they broke into smaller component parts. These nomadically wandering pieces would then eventually fuse with off-worlder races to form the durable mercenaries so feared in many systems.
Raylan wanted to rub his hands together, but they were too cold. What he could do with a few thousand such warriors…the possibilities were endless.
A voice that came from everywhere at once bid them ‘Come!’ in the common language.
They followed the shifting guards into the Helix’s maw. The light continued to brighten until one of Raylan’s guards collapsed to his knees, hands covering his face. Raylan scowled at the Tolgier—a race more light-sensitive than other off-worlder races—then pulled his blaster and fired a shot into the man’s head.
‘Tint your visors,’ he told the others before adjusting the setting on his own as the guards started off again.
It was like walking into a planet’s core. The light became so bright that even with his visor’s tint on full Raylan was soon squinting through his catlike fingers. Beside him, Kyle Jansen fumbled along, holding the shoulder of one of the guards, a species Raylan couldn’t recall the name of which but had no eyes at all, moving by intuition alone. He cursed himself for not thinking to bring more. The other guards had all fallen back, one or two collapsing, the others rushing blindly into the shifting corridors that led off the passage in all directions.
The Bareleons at last stopped. Raylan could do nothing but take a knee. Beside him, Kyle crouched behind the last surviving guard. The glow in front of them was too magnificent to look at. Only the shadows dancing on the ground at Raylan’s feet gave him any sense that it had form besides a single burning core of energy. The shadows had shapes, though, tentacles and appendages, all moving so quickly that the eyes of a regular human would see only a blur.
‘You come for what reason,’ rumbled a deep, monotone voice. Raylan felt sure it had been created for his purpose only, that the Bareleons had some higher, more complex form of communication that he would never comprehend. There was no questioning in its statement, only an expression of words.
‘I wish to offer a gift.’ Raylan reached into a pocket on his spacesuit and withdrew a tiny box. It had felt like a good idea at the time but now it seemed pathetic. What would such a creature care for a gift such as this?
‘A gift.’
‘Prunes,’ Raylan said, opening the box to reveal six shriveled brown balls. ‘Prunes from the Fire Tree of Barlales, the last fruit of the last tree of its species in existence. I had them specially preserved, then the tree destroyed. I give them to you now, great consumer of all things, as a symbol of our alliance, and I come in peace.’
The light flared. When Raylan opened his eyes, the box had vanished, and he knew they only lived because the Helix decided they lived. His existence was as fragile as that of the prunes, and his presence here was a risk of unprecedented levels.
‘What do you ask.’
‘Our alliance has banished the mighty Trill System Starfleet and the system is now ours. However, I fear your famishment might not be satiated by such an insignificant, unpopulated place.’
‘You do not understand the nature of satisfaction. There is only consumption and … nothing.’
‘The agreement of our alliance was that the planets of Cable, Barlales, and Forsten One be left untouched. Feint, and the outlying fire planets of Abalon 3, Wail and Theen 4 be gifted to yourselves, as they contain far greater mineral and heavy metal wealth.’
‘And.’
‘Yet, my scouts have reported a surveillance party heading for Cable. This is breaking the terms of our agreement.’
‘There are no terms of our agreement. You called. We came.’
‘But in the transmissions—’
‘Words. You less evolved races rely too heavily on words. Words are nothing.’
‘But—’
‘Our communication is ended. The guards will escort you back to your ship.’
The light faded, and Raylan, still squinting at the shadows dancing around his feet, felt a sense of something monstrous yet magnificent moving away, retreating into itself. When he finally dared to look up, he found himself surrounded by the same shifting metallic innards as he had when they left the ship. Of the Helix’s core, there was no sign. He glanced around, looking for Kyle, who was crouched nearby, clutching his face, and found their shuttle sitting on the landing pad a short distance away. They had come all the way back in the blink of an eye, with no obvious sign of movement. As Raylan took a deep breath, wondering quite how great the folly had been to invite such a being to join him as an ally, a set of steps formed out of pliable metal, and one of the massive guards ushered the remnants of their party forward.
‘Sir, what happened?’ Kyle said, as they climbed on to the ship. ‘I heard nothing.’
‘Nothing?’
‘Not a word. Only … the light.’
Raylan frowned. Had the voice been in his head? Whatever had just happened, he could count himself lucky to be alive. Bad things were happening though, far worse than even he could be responsible for.
And clearly the Helix had decided to change the rules. Now he had enemies on all fronts.
‘Set a course back to my command ship,’ he told the pilot. ‘We have plans to make.’
9
Lia
‘There.’ Caladan pointed at the screen. ‘That line of fuzz. It’s an encrypted signal.’
‘Where’s it coming from?’
‘Ergon-7’s dark side. The moon doesn’t rotate, but the signal’s a surprise. I was expecting to find something on the sun-side, but we’re picking up nothing from there.’
‘We’re heading into the dark?’ Jake asked from the passenger berths behind them. ‘Doesn’t sound like fun. Little joy to be had where you can’t see the Stillwater run.’
‘We have no choice,’ Caladan said. ‘We’re almost out of fuel. If this turns out to be nothing, we’ll have to send out a distress signal and hit the sleep tanks. The shuttle’s life support will hold us inert for a couple of years, but after that we’re space dust. If we’re lucky, we’ll get picked up by passing smugglers. You and I will be used for experimenting, while the captain will become a love bunny to be passed around the crew during long deep-space missions.’ At Lia’s scowl, Caladan grinned. ‘But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’
‘What do you think it is?’ Lia asked. ‘You must have some idea. There’s not a dark, damp, infected crack anywhere in the Fire Quarter that you haven’t put your head inside at some point. You must recognize part of the signal.’
Caladan grimaced. ‘Yeah, I do. It’s an automated welcoming signal, requesting us to proceed with great haste. Meaning, it’s almost certainly a trap.’
‘Oh.’
‘And we have no choice but to head right to it.’
>
‘Better check this heap for weapons, then.’
‘Are you taking us in anyway?’ Jake asked.
Caladan nodded. ‘We’ve been homing in on the signal for the last hour.’
Jake chuckled. ‘I’m a big fan of your chain of command.’
Lia scowled at him then narrowed her eyes at the back of Caladan’s head. ‘Yeah, so am I.’
Through the screens, the cratered surface of Ergon-7 passed a few thousand miles beneath them, gray and featureless. Up ahead, a sharp black line dissected the light and dark sides of the moon as it continued its deep orbit around Ergogate.
‘OK, here we go,’ Caladan said. ‘Get ready for lights out. If there’s anything down there that might be watching, it’ll be best not to give it a visual sighting.’
He switched off the ship’s lights. Only the dim screen of the pilot’s terminal illuminated the bridge as they passed into Ergon-7’s dark side.
‘Put out a distress call,’ Lia said. ‘A short-range, localized one.’
‘You sure you want them to know we’re coming?’
‘Better to be expected than shot down. We have nothing to gain by using up our last fuel in a firefight.’
‘The signal is getting stronger,’ Caladan said. ‘It’s just up ahead. Oh.’
‘What?’
‘We’ve been granted a landing code.’
‘By who?’
‘No idea. Could be another automated sequence. We’ve shown up on their radar systems.’
‘Is it yet time to drink to the Stillwater to offer us protection?’ Jake said.
‘Not quite yet,’ Caladan said. ‘But it might be wise to save a little.’
They dipped and rose over invisible valleys located only on the dim computer terminal displaying a 3D render of the surface and their approximate height. The shuttle was equipped with technology better than they had on the Matilda, creating an artificial representation of the moon’s surface in real time, but there was no sign of any habitation or settlement.
‘Barren and dead,’ she muttered.
‘The code is leading up just over the ridge,’ Caladan said. ‘Here we go.’
The shuttle rose over a jutting ridgeline which was all that remained of an ancient crater several dozen miles across. They dropped down into the valley beyond, and Caladan let out a little gasp.
‘There.’
Nestled up against a cliff face, a wide, flat dome appeared on the 3D render, pressed into the crack of the cliff like a pouch of spider’s eggs. Camouflage had made it the color of the surrounding rock, although in the utter darkness of the sunless side it was invisible to the naked eye.
‘Oh, to the Stillwater,’ Jake said, holding up his flask. ‘Ye protect us from a hell yet unknown.’
‘What is it?’ Lia asked.
Caladan shook his head. ‘Doesn’t look like smugglers. No ships. It’s not a mine because there’s no towers, spoil heaps, or anything else to identify it. Plus, mining on a moon’s dark side would require lights. At the very least we’d detect movement or seismic activity below ground, but the sensors on this shuttle are detecting nothing. And if it was a scientific research facility, it would have been flagged according to GMP regulations. Perhaps it’s someone’s private house?’
‘Someone who really loves solitude,’ Lia said. ‘Can you detect any other ships? Transports? Defensive fighters?’
‘Nothing’s coming up on the readings. That’s not to say there aren’t any. Just that there’s no display of force.’
‘It could be a trap.’
Caladan shrugged. ‘That was my first assumption, but it’s possible that whoever set the welcoming signal sequence is long gone or dead.’
‘What is there on the shuttle we can trade for fuel if we do find someone alive down there?’
Caladan scanned an inventory. ‘A few weapons, some dried food. Or there’s information: a bunch of Quaxar System government-restricted access codes if we encounter smugglers.’
‘I thought you said—’
‘I don’t know.’ He lifted his one hand. ‘I have absolutely no idea what we’re heading into, and I’ve flown into more firestorms than most.’
Caladan lowered the power and they came in low, guided by the landing clearance coordinates. As they approached, they found the dome to be larger than they had first imagined, some ten miles across, big enough to contain an entire city. When they were close enough to the crater’s surface, the shuttle passed beneath an overhang invisible from above, and they touched down in an empty hangar, a large airlock door sliding automatically closed to seal them inside.
‘It’s a bit rustic, but it’s built to standard off-world hangar dimensions,’ Caladan said, peering at the shuttle’s inventory screen. ‘The airlock technology was built on Rogue in Event System, according to our tech recognition sensors. It’s old, though, and records are incomplete. We’ve detected a serial number, but there’s a gap in its service history of over a hundred Earth-years.’
‘Stolen,’ Lia said.
‘Or scrapped and sold on as parts. Few traders ever register the junked ships that come in.’
‘There was a whole GMP division dedicated to hunting and fining rogue parts traders,’ Lia said. ‘You were like a stick floating in an ocean. I almost got transferred to it once by a boss who insisted I sleep with him.’
‘What did you do?’
Lia winked. ‘I made sure I didn’t get transferred. You think I wanted to spend my career trawling outer-system worlds looking for unregistered radar systems and recuperation tanks? I was prepared to do literally anything to avoid it.’
‘I bet.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Caladan smirked. ‘We can discuss it later, after we find the bar. A place this size has to have one, right?’
‘If you must know, I developed an acute allergy to some of the alloys used on the flight decks of the line of transports used for the search missions. It came on quick, I’ve never known anything like it.’ She grinned. ‘I’d be happy to tell you all about it in this bar you’re certain we’ll find.’
‘The best bar is the one you carry with you,’ Jake said, raising his flask. ‘Never a disappointment, nor an unfriendly face.’
They set the shuttle down and went through the landing procedures. ‘Breathable air,’ Caladan said. ‘No welcome party, however. I get a feeling we’re going to find droids, possibly rusty old ones that don’t work anymore. Anyone willing to take that bet?’
‘Let’s arm ourselves with whatever we can find,’ Lia said. ‘We need fuel, something convertible to it, or another ship. Stay focused.’
Automatic lighting flicked on as they walked across the hangar to the main base access doors, meaning there was a working power source somewhere. Lia’s GMP-trained eyes looked everywhere, hunting for hidden cameras, concealed weapons, anything that was a prospective enemy or could link to one. The base, whatever it was, felt deserted, which made her more afraid than had a troop of warrior droids appeared through a door and targeted her with their weapons.
It was easy to fight what you could see. What you couldn’t might be far worse: a trap, disease, poisonous gas.
The doors opened into a corridor. Strip lighting appeared, leading them to an elevator at the end, which they rode as high as it went, stepping out into another blank corridor. At the end, a sealed door required a clearance code.
Lia tried an old GMP override code, but the technology was too old, built long before her codes had been created. She turned to Caladan. ‘Can you get us inside?’
‘I could have done,’ Caladan said, but those grubs took all my gadgets.’
Jake stepped forward. ‘Let me try.’ He pointed to a sensor beside the door. ‘That’s DNA recognition.’
‘But how can you…?’
Jake grinned. ‘Magician’s trick.’
He pressed a hand against the sensor and the door bleeped. It slid open to reveal a command center with large, dusty windows loo
king down over a vast factory floor. Through the glass everything felt fuzzy, as though Lia was watching an image that wasn’t quite tuned right.
‘How did you do that?’ Lia asked Jake.
Jake winked. ‘A magician shouldn’t reveal his secrets, but let’s just say computers are easier to fool than people. In Cask System we make it a point to be masters of our technology, not the other way around.’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Lia said as she followed Caladan inside.
Caladan wandered over to a terminal and leaned down to look for an activation control. ‘I guess it was a science research center after all.’
Lia felt a prickle on the back of her neck, a sixth sense that told her danger was near. In a room like this, untouched for decades, there should be nothing, no movement, no sound of breathing but their own—
‘Stop!’ she shouted, too late, as something moved from the shadows below the terminal Caladan was leaning over and leaped through the air.
Caladan jerked upright, swinging around. Lia gasped. Something climbed up Caladan’s beard, moving tiny hand over tiny hand toward his face. A ragged wound-like maw clacked with tiny teeth.
‘Get it off me!’
Lia pulled a blaster from her belt, took aim, and fired. Caladan fell back, a wisp of smoke rising from singed ends of hair. The remains of whatever Lia had shot lay scattered near the far wall.
Caladan stared at her, eyes wild. ‘Did you just try to kill me?’
‘I saved your ass. What was that thing?’
Caladan pressed a hand against the hole in his beard, testing its sponginess. Then he lifted his hand and turned it over, scowling at a red welt between his knuckles. ‘It was hiding under the terminal. I think it bit me.’
‘Critter looked hungry,’ Jake said. ‘Eyes were pretty wild.’
Caladan rubbed the back of his hand against his shirt. ‘Damn, that itches.’ He leaned over again, this time more tentatively. ‘The terminal has been broken open. Whatever it was, it was nesting inside the casing.’
Lia went to inspect what she had shot off Caladan’s face.
