by Alex Lamb
‘Impossible,’ she said, even as worms of doubt gnawed through her. ‘The Transcended have control over Fecund space. And our best dating on Snakepit shows it being seeded after their extinction. It has to be from the Transcended.’
‘Unless someone else sneaked that biosphere in after they stopped paying attention,’ said Will. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, the Transcended don’t get out much. You have no idea who might have been through this patch of space since they retreated in on themselves. We hadn’t even evolved yet. Do you have the first idea what this thing wants?’ Will added as the pod doors slid open. ‘Because I’ll bet you anything it’s not a peaceful future for all mankind.’
Will stepped through into the reception room beyond. The look on his face as the doors shut was one of almost grateful anticipation. Ann didn’t share his composure. In her head, fears were crystallising, and with them a sense of urgency.
12.2: MARK
As the Gulliver sputtered into the Carter System on the last of its fuel, Sam hit the comms. Mark routed Sam’s circuit through a silent bypass to listen in. While he still couldn’t see why Sam would lie to them, his concerns refused to let go. He wanted to know exactly what he was getting into.
‘Message Priority Zero Alpha for Defence Minister Keir Vorn. This is Overcaptain Sam Shah currently aboard the IPS Gulliver,’ said Sam. He was sitting in his study against a backdrop of the IPSO insignia. ‘Keir, we’re in trouble. The ship I’m on is part of a Fleet mission to investigate a potential alien threat. That mission has gone badly wrong. We’re desperately in need of fuel and require the use of your messenger drones to warn New Panama. The future of your world, our entire organisation and all humanity rests in the balance. Worse still, there’s a risk that we may be bringing some of that trouble to your doorstep. If you agree to help us, my captain and I will gladly share the information we have with you, discreetly and in person. It’s the least we can do. I’m deeply sorry to be the bearer of both demands and bad news, but right now we’re out of options. We need to contain this situation fast. Help us, and I will be constantly in your debt. I look forward to hearing from you.’
Sam’s wording sounded nothing but contrite, urgent and well expressed. Mark couldn’t find anything dubious in the message with the possible exception of the idea that he and Sam would meet with the Carter government face to face. Sam had used no security filtering. And other than the always-opaque Fleet signature codes attached to the message, there was nothing in Sam’s request that Mark couldn’t analyse or understand. Mark found himself questioning his paranoia, embarrassed that he’d been reduced to conspiracy theories.
Sam pinged him when he was finished.
‘It’s sent,’ he said. ‘Let’s hope they stay rational.’
Word from Carter arrived an hour later as their ship caught up with the light-lagged reply. A weathered-looking man with unruly mutton-chops appeared on the video feed. He looked more anxious than upset. Mark considered that a good start.
‘This is Defence Minister Keir Vorn. Welcome, Sam. A berth is ready for you at Fleet Local. Please dock there and we’ll solve your fuel problem. My government would like to accept your offer and meet with you and your captain. As you might imagine, your arrival has caused something of a political riot here. Some personal assurances will help considerably.’
Mark could see where things were headed. Would it be so bad if he and Sam went down to the surface of the planet? But his anxiety refused to settle.
Any minute now, Sam could propose a meeting and events would take on their own momentum. He needed a second opinion before that happened. He pinged Venetia and asked her to meet him in the privacy chamber. If anyone on the ship had retained a sense of perspective, it was her.
Five minutes later, Venetia met him in the tiny faux-panelled room.
‘What’s up?’ she said. ‘Not more trouble, I hope.’
Mark knew he didn’t have much time. He shut the door and came to the point.
‘Sam has set up an expectation that he and I will go down to Carter,’ he said.
‘Is that a problem?’ said Venetia. ‘It sounds like basic courtesy to me. Their whole world is at risk, after all. What were you planning to do – shout at them from orbit?’
‘I know,’ said Mark. ‘But something about Sam feels off to me. That business with the antimatter was weird. And Ash has been angry with him ever since but won’t say why.’
‘Perhaps because he screwed up the mission and risked our lives?’ she replied. ‘Are you sure you’re not letting this situation get to you, Mark? I mean, we’re all a bit edgy right now.’
‘I think it’s more than that,’ he said. ‘I’m worried that this has something to do with the neurotoxin incident.’
‘Ah.’ Her brow creased. ‘I see.’
‘There’s something weird about that whole event. I know Citra hates me, but she’s a scientist, for crying out loud. I know she’s not had much to do and she’s furious about Yunus, but the more I think about it, the harder I find it to believe she’d pull that kind of shit. There’s something else going on here.’
Venetia shot him a long look. ‘You think it was Sam?’
‘I don’t know. That whole search of the memory core went on hold the moment the Photurians showed up. I needed the robots. I didn’t get back to it, which is my fault, but as soon as we were headed here, there didn’t seem to be any point.’
Her face took on an expression somewhere between maternal and cunning.
‘Look,’ she said, ‘there’s a simple solution to this. We all go. We keep a close eye on Sam. Together. You could use me down there, anyway. I know that place better than anyone else on this ship.’
‘We can’t,’ said Mark. ‘Someone has to stay up here – Fleet regs demand it.’
‘So maybe we send Ash down with Sam instead, and you stay up here.’
‘I thought about that,’ he said, ‘but frankly, I like it just as little. First, it’s not what Carter’s expecting. But worse, it lets Sam know that we’re on to him, if he is responsible.’
Her gaze became probing. ‘Do you trust Ash?’ she said. ‘You two don’t seem to get along that well.’
Mark looked away. ‘I don’t know. I’ve known him for a long time, but these days he feels like a stranger to me. I guess I’d have to say yes, though.’
‘Then take him into your confidence,’ said Venetia. ‘Like you just have with me.’
Mark grimaced. ‘But what if I’m wrong? What if he’s behind the attack?’
‘Then maybe this is how you find out,’ she said. ‘I’ll assume we’re all going down together. I’ll tell Zoe and talk her round if needs be. You talk to Ash. We meet back in the lounge for a meeting in ten. Does that work for you?’
Mark nodded, feeling less comfortable than he let himself admit.
12.3: ASH
At Mark’s request, Ash met him in the ship’s helm-space. Mark’s avatar stood there surrounded by a multicoloured representation of Carter’s sparse in-system traffic. The timing and the tone of the request had struck Ash as a little more formal than usual. The stiff, uncomfortable look on Mark’s avatar reinforced that impression. Their game of mutual avoidance was apparently at an end.
Ash didn’t know how to feel about that. He was sick of following Sam around like a lapdog. On the other hand, he still didn’t feel ready to come clean. Sam had been right that he stood to lose his life the moment he opened his mouth.
‘What is it, Boss?’ said Ash brightly.
Mark looked him straight in the eye. ‘I’ve secured this metaphor,’ he said. ‘I want to talk.’
‘Shoot,’ said Ash, his stomach churning.
‘You have some issue with Sam,’ said Mark. ‘I don’t know what it is, and if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t make you. But I’m guessing and hoping that despite everything that’s happened b
etween us, you don’t want me dead. So I’m going to ask you one question. Should I go down to Carter with Sam?’
Ash looked out at the virtual stars. He examined the back of his hand. What was he supposed to say? No, it’s a fucking trap, you Aspie halfwit, came to mind. And then, as he pondered, a plan started to form in his head.
‘Yes,’ he said simply. ‘You should go.’
Because, he reasoned, the only way he’d ever get home on his own terms was if Sam was off the ship. And the only reason Sam would ever leave was if he thought he was winning.
‘Carter is expecting it,’ said Ash. ‘And so is Sam.’
Mark looked unconvinced and Ash knew he needed to say more.
‘You’re right that Sam has pissed me off,’ he admitted. ‘I’m beyond angry for what he did back at Nerroskovi. And you’re right that there’s more going on between us than either of us is saying. I’ll explain all of it to you, I promise, but now is not the time. Right now, you shouldn’t even ask. You should just trust me and go. And don’t think too much about it, either. What I can tell you is that I’ll keep your ship safe, and that I’ll watch over you from up here. I will do everything in my power to make sure you get back up here intact, and that we leave this place on schedule.’ Ash tried for a winning smile. ‘I haven’t done much in the last few years to make me worthy of your trust,’ he said. ‘I regret that. I was stupid. But as someone who shared a dorm with you, and memories, and, let’s face it, a family, too, you can trust me now.’
Mark peered at him. Ash had realised long ago that most roboteers ironically had less control over their avatars’ expressions than they did their physical faces, and Mark was no exception. Grimaces of anxiety twitched across his otherwise impassive features.
‘Okay,’ said Mark. ‘But I’m taking Venetia and Zoe down with me.’
‘You do that,’ said Ash. ‘That’s a great idea. I’ll take care of all of you.’
12.4: MARK
When Venetia and Zoe announced their desire to join the away team, Sam approved.
‘I was going to suggest it myself,’ he said. ‘The more united a front we present, the better this will come off.’
Mark kept his thoughts to himself. His conversation with Ash had left him feeling more suspicious than ever.
They docked at Carter’s tiny Fleet outpost. It was little more than an automated fuelling station hanging in a high orbit that it shared with three empty-looking habitats. From there, they took the Gulliver’s remaining shuttle down to the surface.
A tan sphere dotted with high, white cloud spread below them, unfolding into a vast, dry horizon. Venetia briefed them as they fell.
‘Carter’s a political place these days,’ she said over the roar of re-entry. ‘Not so happy. You want to bear that in mind and be careful what you say. Once they started getting Flag Drops, the colonists’ attitudes turned ugly fast. Lots of angry Frontier Protection types, I’m afraid. Tossers.’
Mark flicked his camera view to Sam in the seat behind him.
‘Does this fit with your experience?’ he asked.
‘Certainly the politics there are difficult,’ Sam replied blandly. ‘But I’ve been exposed to rather a different side of it than Venetia. I haven’t made it down to the surface much, but I’ve had to handle the grievances of the colony government for years. Every time their oxygen factory gets bombed or someone poisons their protein store, we have to send a ship. It’s the same sad story you hear all over the place these days.’
‘Why were you even here, Vee?’ said Zoe. ‘The place sounds like a dump to me. Looks like one, too.’
‘It’s actually pretty interesting,’ said Venetia. ‘There used to be a lot of scientists here before the violence got bad. We were studying the tunnels. This planet’s unique in that it’s studded with Fecund biolabs, very much like the kind of set-up we have on Davenport or Kurikov. The Fecund dedicated populations of disposable children just to man the labs and survey the local flora and fauna. We gained access to a ton of specialised Fecund machinery. The patent gains alone paid for the colony about ten times over. Not to mention everything we discovered about their culture. That’s what I was here to look at, unsurprisingly. You can learn a lot about alien minds by looking at how they do science.’
Mark glanced back at the lifeless brown ball below.
‘This was a biosphere world?’
Venetia nodded. ‘Yep. Not so green now, I grant you. A suntap flare will do that. But this world still has a little plate tectonics going, and a nice thick atmosphere that’s already re-stabilising. There’s a ton of water in that permafrost. And with people here that process will go much faster. The planet’s practically gagging to come back to life. Give it a thousand years and it’ll be nicer than Earth is now. So take a good look, ladies and gents. This place is basically what Earth would’ve turned into if the Transcended hadn’t prevented the Fecund from reaching it while we were all still swinging in the trees.’
Mark regarded the dead world with fresh respect.
‘That’s a thousand years of good treatment, of course,’ she added. ‘First the fuckwits on the surface will have to stop arguing about land rights, access to the ruins and all that other pointless shit.’
The shuttle descended along the flight path Vorn had sent them, passing over an endless desert of undulating dun-coloured hills before landing at a tiny spaceport that sat alone on a dusty plain. A flat, white sky hung overhead, tinged butter-yellow at the edges.
As they finally settled on the ground, the reality of slightly leaden gravity settled onto Mark. A docking arm telescoped out from the spaceport’s solitary terminal to greet them, down which a transit pod slid to kiss against their airlock.
‘Welcome to the colony of New Luxor,’ said Venetia. ‘Armpit of the universe.’
The doors slid open, ushering a tang of dust into the shuttle cabin. Keir Vorn stood beyond them in the transit pod, dressed in a New Angeles-style formal kilt and T-shirt, with a curious spiral logo emblazoned on his chest. He was a far larger man than Mark had expected and built like a weightlifter. His face seemed fixed in a hang-dog expression.
‘Glad you could all come,’ he said solemnly. ‘We appreciate it.’ He gestured towards the pod. ‘Please, step this way. The governing council will see us as soon as we get back to town.’
‘Town?’ said Mark.
Keir nodded. ‘We have a conference room ready for you.’
Why hadn’t they just come to the spaceport? Mark wondered. The further he got from his ship, the more nervous he felt. Still, he’d come all the way from orbit. A mile or two more wouldn’t hurt.
By home system standards, the pod Keir had provided looked both oversized and vaguely rustic. It had plastic bench seating and real windows offering a view out across the desert. The metallic tang of surface dust clung to the air.
Vorn shook their hands as introductions were made. Then the doors sealed and they started off. From the spaceport, the pod headed down an unshielded rail that led out into the empty landscape and picked up speed.
In the distance, Mark could see the tip of a single tower jutting over the horizon.
‘Is that where we’re headed?’ said Mark. It looked depressingly far away.
Keir nodded. ‘That’s Government Tower. Doesn’t look like much from here. It’s better up close. We should be there in about forty minutes.’
‘Why did you build your spaceport so far from your city?’ said Mark. ‘That’s got to be awkward.’
‘Partly because of the placement of Fecund ruins,’ said Keir. ‘Plus we expected the city to scale and picked facility sites to support that. Over the last ten years we haven’t seen as much growth as we expected. Unless you count the illegal ghettos out in the ocean.’
‘The ocean?’ said Zoe.
‘Well, where the ocean used to be,’ said Keir. ‘Right now we’re u
p on what was a continent until about ten million years ago. The colony was built along an old river valley because that’s where the Fecund focused their activity. All the continental land was claimed by legitimate freeholders so the Flags just set up out in the old ocean. They didn’t care about the terraforming plans that slated it for reflooding. They don’t think that far ahead. And it’s convenient for them – they can make raids to steal from any of our sites out along the coast.’
As if on cue, the pod banked right as the rail turned to run parallel to a great canyon now opening out before them. Then it descended into a sloping trench carved out near the canyon wall before diving into a tunnel. The pod slowed in the darkness.
‘Air gate,’ said Keir. ‘This is where we couple with the old hydraulic system.’
Lights came on, revealing a utilitarian-looking industrial airlock that opened before them. Another identical lock lay beyond, and another after that. The pod went through six of them.
‘Weird engineering,’ said Zoe, peering up at the mechanism as they passed.
‘Not really,’ said Keir. ‘Saves on pumping and time. Doors are cheap.’
On the other side of the air gates lay an oval vaulted tunnel ten metres high. Down the left side of it ran a bank of enormous windows made of curving crystal smeared with dust. Despite the grime, they offered an extraordinary view onto the broad, sloping floor of the canyon beyond. The other wall had been covered with a crazily dense mix of alien braille and bas-relief carving depicting thousands of Fecund figures engaged in some kind of battle.
Mirror-calm black water filled the bottom of the tube, turning it into a covered canal. The pod ran along one of a set of elevated rails jutting out of the channel. They contrasted harshly with the almost art nouveau – and decidedly non-human – lines of everything else.
Mark regarded the bewildering maze of figures sliding past with awe. The Fecund had always struck him as looking like beaked aquatic monkeys. In the art here, though, they came in all shapes and sizes, with bodies that resembled everything from hippos to wolves. They all had the same weirdly turreted eyes.
