Archangel

by Scott Harrison

  The viewscreen showed a topographical image of the surface of the planet below and Orac had placed the results of his recent infra-spectrum energy scan on top of this. Everything looked normal, except for a one square mile area to the left of a rather shallow valley which was a shade or two darker than the rest of the map.

  ‘All I can be certain of at this time,’ continued Orac, ‘is that whatever is causing the energy fluctuation is below ground level.’

  ‘This device…’ Blake began, but Orac interrupted him.

  ‘I did not say it was a device. In fact, to call it a device would be extremely misleading at this juncture.’

  ‘Let’s say for argument’s sake that this is some kind of a device,’ Blake continued. ‘Could it be a weapon of some sort?’

  ‘It is possible, I suppose,’ Orac conceded. ‘But highly unlikely. If I was to hazard a guess I would say that this is a power source.’

  ‘I still don’t understand why it can’t be identified,’ said Avon. ‘Could the device be shielded in some way?’

  ‘That is the most likely explanation,’ Orac said. ‘Over the past ten years the Federation has been experimenting with a number of molecularly-engineered materials designed to both shield and repel all forms of ship-to-surface scans. There are rumours that a number of top-secret Federation facilities have been built using such materials, including the listening station on Prospero, the cloning vats on Tarsius and Outpost 117 on Myoniss II.’

  Blake turned the facts over in his mind for a moment before he continued. ‘Why can’t I shake the feeling that our old friend Space Commander Travis didn’t die in that Federation ship after all, but is alive and well and hiding on the surface of that planet with the power source.’

  ‘I vote we leave him down there,’ Vila said suddenly. ‘He can’t go anywhere now we’ve destroyed his ship. At least down there he’s out of harm’s way.’

  ‘You heard what Orac said. There’s every possibility that there’s a Federation facility on the surface of this planet,’ Blake said. ‘It’s so close to the shipyards, I think that whatever is down there may be connected to Archangel. If I were attempting to restart the project it’s where I’d base myself.’

  ‘And if you’re wrong?’ Vila asked.

  ‘Well, then at the very least you’ve had a nice brisk walk on the surface of a new and exciting planet and had plenty of exercise,’ Blake said with a smile.

  It took a few seconds for Blake’s words to fully sink in. Once they did Vila went through the usual routine of trying to wriggle out of it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  At first Blake couldn’t see what Cally was looking at. To him she was just a dark humanoid shape on the hillside silhouetted against the pale blue sky. She was pointing off into the centre of the valley where a thin veil of mist was swirling slowly across the ground. Blake flattened a hand across his brow, shading his eyes from the sun, and peered down into the bowl of lush, overgrown vegetation. That’s when he saw it.

  From where he was standing it looked like the skeleton of an enormous alien creature lying broken and half-hidden amongst the greenery, its bleached white bones glinting lazily in the sun. He waved back at Cally to show her that he had seen it, then slowly began to pick his way down the steep curved bowl of the valley towards the remains.

  It wasn’t until Blake got nearer to it that he realised just how big the remains were. If this really had been some kind of living creature then when it was alive it would have been huge.

  Something moved to the left of the ‘skeleton’, a brief flash of colour, then it was gone. Blake stopped, pulling his gun from its holster as he dived quickly behind the twisted trunk of a nearby tree.

  He braced himself, swinging the gun up to shoulder level as he spun out from behind the tree, pointing the weapon towards the incessant rustling sound ahead.

  Vila froze in his tracks as he noticed the gun pointing in his direction, his hands flying up in surrender.

  ‘Do you have to come charging through the undergrowth like a wild animal, Vila?’ Blake asked, holstering his gun as he walked towards him.

  Close up, it was now obvious that what had looked like an animal skeleton was actually the outer chassis of a small scout ship, although not of a design that Blake was familiar with.

  ‘It probably started off as your standard MK I pursuit ship.’ Vila grabbed a handful of weeds and ripped them away from the remains of the craft. ‘Over time it’s been modified, starting with the engine housing and the position of the cockpit.’

  ‘How long do you think it’s been out here?’ Blake asked.

  Vila shrugged. ‘A couple of years, I guess. No more than that. It was stripped of parts before it was dumped here.’ He pointed at a number of gouges along the bodywork. ‘You can see where the lasercutter slipped while they were gutting it.’

  The ship had ploughed a deep groove into the side of the valley wall as if it had been pushed over the edge, which was still discernible even now, despite the best efforts of the wild vegetation to creep over it again.

  Blake and Vila followed its trail of destruction back up the hillside to where Cally was waiting for them. The sun had crept a little higher in the sky, and now that they were out of the shade of the overhanging trees it was getting noticeably hotter.

  It took them the better part of an hour to climb to the top of the hill, the ground becoming more and more uneven the higher they got. For the last two or three klicks they had been scrabbling over loose rock and shale. From here the valley opened out before them in all directions. To the left was a low, mountainous region, to the right a flat, sun-parched plateau that seemed to stretch on as far as the eye could see.

  The Federation facility was about three klicks ahead of them, a grey, featureless structure crouching on the lip of the valley, almost entirely covered by overgrown fire-vines and wild grass.

  Blake estimated that it would take them at least another hour to pick their way carefully down the other side of the hill, after that maybe another 45 minutes to get across the open ground and reach the facility. It was difficult to tell, it really all depended on how hazardous the terrain was.

  *

  Jenna yawned and stretched her tired legs as she watched the three electronic blips moving with painstaking slowness across the map on the viewscreen. She’d been watching them for almost two hours now and she had to admit that it wasn’t the most scintillating of viewing. It reminded her a little bit of the old endurance games on the vid-cast back on Earth.

  To be fair that hadn’t been electronic blips but an actual live 24-hour feed, as a number of contestants attempted to spend as many days as they could not eating, drinking or moving from the spot. But it may well have been electronic blips for all the excitement there was in watching it.

  She flexed her neck experimentally and was immediately rewarded with a sharp stabbing pain at the base of her skull. Cursing quietly beneath her breath, Jenna dragged herself up from the seating area at the front of the flight deck and padded across to the drugs cabinet. She placed her thumb on the fingerprint reader and the latch popped open. Inside was a small perspex box containing a number of red and blue compresses. Jenna flipped the lid and removed one of the stronger red ones. She had a feeling that the pain might eventually turn into a migraine and that was the last thing she needed right now. She was about to close the lid when a thought struck her. Reaching a hand out Jenna thumbed the button on the communicator on the wall and waited for the power light to flick on.

  ‘Avon, I’m just getting myself a neutralising pad and could really do with a lie down for half an hour. Can you come up and take over watch for a little while?’

  Jenna clicked the button off and waited for Avon to respond, but nothing happened for several long seconds. After a while she pressed the send button again and repeated her message.

  Still nothing.

  Carefully she replaced the neutralising pad back and closed the drug cabinet. Slowly she wandered back across to the
seating area where she stopped and looked down at the silent rectangular form of Orac. The operating key was missing.

  ‘Zen, report on Avon’s position.’

  The wall panel sprang into sudden life as the ship’s computer responded to Jenna’s command.

  ‘THE ONE CALLED KERR AVON IS CURRENTLY LOCATED IN THE AFT POWER ROOM.’

  Jenna crossed over to the gun rack and pulled a weapon from one of the many chambers, then carefully strapped the gun-belt around her waist.

  Once this was done she moved quickly across to the exit, pausing briefly at the doorway. She reached over and pressed the button on the wall communicator once more.

  ‘Avon, this is Jenna, respond please.’

  There was nothing, only silence.

  She flicked the communicator off and pulled the gun from her holster, then headed out towards the aft power room.

  *

  Even though the whole area appeared deserted, Blake had decided that they weren’t going to take any chances, which pleased Vila.

  They’d climbed up over the ridge and into the thick tangle of trees that skirted the entrance of the facility. If Travis was down here, and he knew that the Liberator had just destroyed his only means of escape, he might react like a trapped animal and come out with teeth bared and claws fully extended.

  They clambered down the bank on their backsides; it was the only way that they could reach the bottom without twisting an ankle on the loose ground or falling and breaking their necks.

  Once on their feet they scurried across the ground towards the entrance, using the broad tree trunks as cover. The door to the facility was set back inside a deep recess which Blake and his team were thankful for, as the trees had stopped a few feet from the front of the building, and they would have felt like sitting ducks out in the open.

  Blake pointed at the control panel to one side of the entrance. ‘Another job for the quickest thief in the five galaxies.’

  ‘Best,’ corrected Vila, rolling his eyes impatiently. ‘I said I was the best thief in the five galaxies.’

  Vila pulled a set of thin metal rods from the inside of his tunic and began to slowly dismantle the front plate of the control panel. Once this was done he carefully manoeuvred each of the rods into a number of holes in the operating board beneath, before delicately touching each one with a short, pronged device. The rods appeared to vibrate and hum as though a light electrical current were being passed down them. The noise got gradually louder as Vila deftly flicked the pronged device from one rod to the next.

  After a short time the door trundled open revealing a dark, empty corridor beyond, and Vila dismantled the rods with a flourish, stuffing them back inside his tunic.

  ‘You see, anyone can be quick at something,’ said Vila. ‘But what matters is doing it right!’

  They disappeared inside, moving down the corridor in single file, careful to keep themselves to the shadows as they looked for the lifts. Most of the sensorlamps had been powered down and those that had been left on had gradually become cracked or fogged up from the intense heat. As a result the lighting along the main corridor was a little subdued. There was a thick layer of dust and oil on the floor and the metal surface had become scratched in places, as though something heavy had been dragged out to the surface in a hurry.

  They found the lifts in a sort of lobby area at the end of the corridor, although only one of them appeared to be working. The other two were stuck between floors. Cally jabbed the button and the door rumbled open.

  There were no buttons on the control panel inside, just a retina scan, so Vila was called upon again to work his magic. Out came the rods once more, only this time he chose the shortest from the bunch and stuffed the others back into his tunic. He then looped the rod around on itself, until it formed a sort of rough circle, although he was very careful not to let the two ends touch one another.

  Vila eased the panel off the front of the retina scan, exposing the fine crystal lens beneath, and gently prised it out of its workings. He stared at it admiringly for a moment, as it lay in the centre of his palm—watching in fascination as the harsh emergency lighting rippled across its delicately carved angles—before slipping it swiftly into his pocket.

  He pressed the looped rod into the hollow groove where the lens had been, pinching its sides together between thumb and forefinger so that now the two ends of the rod could touch. Then he stepped back.

  ‘This is only going to work the once, I’m afraid,’ said Vila. ‘But at least it’ll get us down to the lower level. Getting back may be a problem, though.’

  He shot his crewmates a brief ‘here goes nothing’ expression and stepped towards the retina scan. A thin red beam of light jabbed out from between the looped rod and swept across Vila’s eye, first downward, then upwards.

  But after that nothing else happened, and for a while there was silence.

  Vila stood and watched nothing continue to happen for a moment or two longer, he had pulled one of the other rods from out of his tunic and was tapping it rhythmically against his teeth. He glanced across at Blake and Cally, offering them an encouraging smile. ‘It’s OK, don’t worry, I think I know what I did wrong.’

  Vila returned to the open control panel, crouching down so he could peer inside, then he very slowly and very carefully slotted the second rod into the operating board.

  The panel exploded violently, showering the interior of the lift in a flurry of sparks. At the same time, a juddering vibration seemed to rattle through the bones of the building, then, with a sickening lurch, the lift started to plummet downwards.

  *

  Jenna hated having to go into the power section; it always gave her the creeps.

  It wasn’t the dark, not as such—it was more the atmosphere of the place. For a start it was always just a few degrees colder than was comfortable. It had to be, she knew that, in order to protect the equipment. But it always seemed to have the same effect on her. It affected her fingers first, making them ache until it was difficult for her to grip things, then it would slowly seep down her body until her stomach felt bloated and she needed to use the bathroom. That’s when she usually made her excuses and got the hell out of there.

  Jenna stood at the open bulkhead door that lead into the power section and peered inside. She couldn’t really see anything, just a row of conduit pipes fixed along the back wall and a monitoring station off to the left, but there didn’t appear to be any sign of Avon. She cursed beneath her breath and stepped reluctantly in through the open doorway.

  As far as she could tell everything looked normal, nothing had been switched off or tampered with, although she had to admit it would be very hard for her to tell if someone had mucked about with any of the controls. The power systems were regulated by Zen and therefore were usually off-limits to the human crew. In fact, very few of them knew how to work them if the need ever arose—except, perhaps, for Avon.

  She called his name, but there was no reply. She tried again, only this time a little louder in case he hadn’t heard her over the noise of the machinery. Still nothing.

  There was really only one place left for her to try. If he wasn’t there she’d just have to go back up to the flight deck and call Blake, let him know what was going on. Not that she actually knew what was going on herself, but that wasn’t really the point.

  Jenna checked the power levels on her gun—more out of habit than necessity—then moved calmly over to the door of the relay room. She tried palming the control but the door refused to budge. The message Enter Code flashed up on the panel, reminding her that the door was security locked.

  The trouble was she wasn’t sure if she could remember the code now. It had been a while since she’d had to use it—the last time had been when that Amagon tribe had managed to get on board and take control of the Liberator.

  The first code to pop into her head was a six digit number sequence that didn’t really strike her as the right one, but she punched it in anyway. Nothing happened, but
she’d been expecting that. She tried another, this one a mix of numbers and letters, which struck her as a bit more hopeful, but this one didn’t work either.

  Jenna took a deep breath and told herself to just keep calm and focus, that the number would come to her in the end. She stared at the entrypad for a few minutes waiting for inspiration to strike.

  One. One. Eight.

  Those numbers sounded right to her or, at least, on the right lines.

  One One Eight…Nine…

  She brushed the numbers lightly with her fingertips, not wanting to commit herself—not yet.

  One One Eight Nine…Two Zero.

  Yes, that was it. That was the six digit number sequence, she was positive. She tapped it into the entrypad, but there was still no response from the closed door. Then she tried again, this time tapping each number in slowly but firmly. Nothing.

  They were the right numbers, she absolutely knew that now. They felt right. Jenna placed a finger on each of the six numbers on the entrypad, but this time she did not press down, merely brushing the buttons lightly with the ball of her finger.

  She counted them off under her breath: One One Eight Nine Two Ze…She stopped suddenly, finger hovering between the two and the zero. They were the right numbers, yes, but they were in the wrong sequence.

  The numbers should read: One Eight One Nine Two Zero. She tapped them in again and this time the door shushed obediently open.

  And then Jenna was staring into the room beyond, the number sequence forgotten as something new now held her attention, something that was moving quickly towards her, so fast that it was almost a blur. She tried to back out, to get out of its way before it hit her, but she was not quite fast enough.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Vila found that he didn’t mind being dead. It was actually much nicer than he was expecting.

  Yes, it was true that it hurt a little if he tried to move his head, and there was something wriggling across his feet that he didn’t really want to think about, but if he just lay still and quiet and kept his eyes screwed shut tight, it was actually quite nice.