Betrayed (Hidden Worlds Book 1)

by Bethany Burke

  Ask questions I did, and I got answers. Yes, I was to collect data via remotes, and no, I was not going to go out on surface, even though set-downs were planned The Mission Primo shook his head in innocent confusion when I mentioned that I'd been told by the Patrol Mission Coordinator who'd first contacted me that no set-down was planned. Where she'd gotten that idea was a complete mystery to him.

  In preparation for slowly introducing Earth observers into the culture, one purpose of this mission was to observe an initial contact between a Unit Member, who would be a "stranger," and a local. Care was taken to hide any outward signs of advanced technology such as weapons, yet the "stranger" was always dressed differently enough from the given culture that he would easily be identified as something "different." From observing several of these initial contacts, Earth strategists hoped to judge just how difficult it would be to introduce our "observers" directly into the society. Societies that greeted strangers openly were obviously much easier to penetrate than a society in which the first reaction was to kill the unknown individual.

  I learned that the Unit planned on observing initial contacts with some ten or fifteen different groups on the planet. As I heard this, I found myself becoming quite excited. I'd never thought I'd get a chance to observe such an interaction first-hand. I also relaxed. My initial trepidation about the mission had been explained away perfectly. Everything made complete and logical sense. The Unit was there for a very specific purpose and I was there for mine. My research would be done in and around theirs.

  As the planet approached, first as a tiny glowing dot on the monitor, then something we could physically observe through the dropped light shields, I found myself becoming more and more excited. All my research in the past, done as a graduate student, had been on thoroughly "civilized" planets. But this was something new, something only a very few had seen. I spent a lot of time during the last two days of flight with a big smile on my face, picturing how my name would look next session on the list of tenured faculty.

  I'd been informed that the initial set-down would be "dry," in other words, without contact with any locals. As it would be in an uninhabited area of the planet, I would not have the opportunity to set up any remotes either. Having totally reviewed my data bases, I was left with little to do. The two other researchers on board, an anthropologist named Doug Myson and a sociologist named Arn Mensch and I went over a few ideas for some joint projects, but when the sound of the engines changed from the low-pitched deep space hum to the rather loud whine of the descent system, we could not hide our excitement. Even though we hadn't been specifically invited, we wandered up to the bridge to watch the final moments before set-down.

  The planet surface came into view, first a dim, bluish haze, then specific land masses, then, almost so quickly that the transition could not be seen, distinct features: rivers, lakes, forests. I was trying to stay back, out of the way, though, and I could catch no glimpse of anything that looked like it had been the product of human hands. Then, only a couple more seconds and… silence. The engines dropped out between one millisecond and the next, leaving a void so absolute it almost, by contrast, hurt one's ears. We were on the surface.

  There were grins, and a little back slapping and I watched curiously to see what would happen next. To be honest, I could see little purpose for a "dry" set-down. We were not here to collect plant or animal specimens, and we knew that the atmosphere was breathable. I thought about it for a second, then shrugged it off. It was none of my concern, after all. I had to assume that the Unit Pilots and Mission Leaders knew what they were doing.

  Suddenly, I noticed that the Mission Primo, Hal Turner, was eying us. He caught my gaze, turned away quickly, then looked back with a smile. I was puzzled by his turning away… the motion had seemed almost… furtive, but at his warm smile, I dismissed the brief impression. Hal walked towards us. "It's rather chilly out there. You're really not dressed warmly enough."

  "Warm enough for what?" Arn's voice carried a note of puzzlement.

  "Has no one told you?" Hal Turner's voice carried a note of surprise, but my first impression was that it was false; he knew perfectly well that we hadn't been told whatever it was he was now referring to. In addition, I got the definite feeling that while he was addressing the comment to the whole group, he was actually talking directly to me. "If you want to go out on the surface, now's your opportunity. It's isolated here, with no chance of encounters with locals. I don't know." He shrugged. "Thought you might like to pick up a rock or something. You know. A souvenir." I looked up, trying to catch his eyes, and, inexplicably he looked away… wouldn't hold my gaze.

  I opened my mouth then snapped it shut again. The feelings were strong and I felt sure he was hiding something, but what? Was I going to accuse him of lying? About what? The fact that we were apparently to be allowed one brief foray out of the ship? Why in the world would he lie about that? I turned away, frustrated, and as rational thought intruded, I tried to shake the negative feeling away. There was no reason that Hal Turner should be nervous, or furtive, or anything else around me; I'd never clapped eyes on the man before preflight and hadn't exchanged anything beyond the most basic greeting with him since.

  Arn and Doug looked delighted and quickly announced their intention to change into the crew jumpsuits that we'd been issued, but were not actually required to wear.

  Hal looked at me. "What about you, Jen?

  I forced myself to shake off the negative feelings completely, because I knew there was no rational basis for them. "Sure," I smiled. "Sure. I'm coming."

  Chapter 2

  My first step out onto the planet's surface was almost a let-down, although I remembered having this feeling before as I visited other planets. One expected the colony planets to feel… different somehow, and, in fact, they didn't. They'd been selected, after all, because of their similarity to Earth. Oh, certainly, on many planets, there was spectacular and curious terrain, mountains so huge they dwarfed the Himalayas, canyons so gigantic they made North America's Grand Canyon look like a valley.

  But the sense of complete "difference" described by the earliest explorers had much to do with the fact that Earth's air quality was so poor by the late twenty-first that explorers would get their first whiff of truly "fresh" air the first time they stepped on a new planet. Now that pollution on Earth was eradicated, most of the planets smelled and, allowing for temperature differences, even felt about the same.

  The small cylindrical-shaped Drakkon had set down in a glade that could truly have been anywhere out of the tropical zone on Earth. For a second, I had an intense feeling of disappointment, almost wariness, as if I'd been tricked and we were still on Earth. But it felt good to feel a warm sun and a soft breeze and smell unprocessed air, and then, slowly, I did become conscious of subtle differences. The light from the Gamma Rigel sun actually was farther into the red spectrum than Earth's sun, giving everything on Gamma Rigel a rosy glow. Christy ran up to me, smiling. "Not bad, huh?"

  I smiled back. "Actually, it doesn't seem all that much different than Earth, but…" I stretched my arms high in the sunshine and felt my muscles cord, "…the sun feels good." I looked around idly, and supposed I should go and pick up a rock or something, as Primo Turner had suggested. Suddenly, Christy stiffened next to me. "Oh, Christ. Here he comes."

  I raised my head and saw the Primo walking towards us. "What's wrong?" I hissed to her, surprised at her words.

  "I just don't like him," she whispered back through clenched teeth. "I don't know. Half of them time I feel like he's been avoiding me, then the rest of the time, I think he's watching me."

  "I got some strange feelings from him, too," I muttered. I would have liked to say more, but he was getting too close. I smiled at him; from the corner of my eye, I could see the grin pasted on Christy's face was as false as mine.

  "So," he said brightly, "how do you like it?" Again, I was struck by the man's oddness. Why did he care what two insignificant members of the party
thought about the foliage or the air quality? Shouldn't he be running tests and parameter checks and… whatever else was so important about a dry run?

  "It's fine," I answered politely. Next to me, Christy made some similarly assenting murmur.

  I thought he'd leave us alone, then, but he, amazingly, continued standing by us, seemingly enjoying the view. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several other of the Mission Leaders some distance behind him. Although they appeared busy with instruments, I caught one or two quick glances, as if they were watching the interaction. I got the definite feeling that there was something I didn't know.

  I opened my mouth, trying to frame a confrontation, something along the lines of "What the fuck is going on here?" but perhaps more politic, when he spoke. "Just before set-down, I saw a beautiful water-fall formation just down that hill." He pointed with his finger towards an opening in the forest. "We've got some more tests to run. If you'd like to walk over, feel free. Stretch your legs… you know."

  I looked at him incredulously. "Is it safe?"

  "Oh, perfectly. We're thirty, forty clicks from any human inhabitation. There are predators in these forests, but they're all night feeding." He nodded. "Perfectly safe."

  Christy's eyes followed where he was pointing. "Is it far?"

  "No. A click. No more." He looked at both of us patronizingly. "You should go. You know you'll not get another chance to go on-site once we start running the contact drops."

  "Well, all right." Christy sounded as baffled as I felt. Then she shrugged and looked at me. "You coming? He's right, you know. We won't get another chance for a hike for a good long time."

  I was reeling. This all seemed so strange. Come to think of it, focusing on the last statement, why wouldn't we get another chance to go on-site for exercise? About ninety percent of the land on this planet was still empty. There were stretches of millions of square miles where no human habitation had reached. What was preventing the Primo from ordering an "R & R" afternoon, set down 1000 clicks from anywhere, and let everyone swim and hike? But before I could speak this thought or move on to another, Christy had grabbed my arm. "Come on." I got the feeling that she was agreeing just to get away from him, and giving up, I followed her.

  The quiet air of Gamma Rigel's forest closed around us. It was beautiful, awesome, actually once you were in it, and I found myself relaxing. Primo Turner was odd, that was all. "How will we find it?" I asked Christy as we walked along.

  "Listen." She paused. "I think I can hear it."

  We stood motionless, and I realized that she was right. The far-away sound of rushing water was unmistakable. We walked along, then, not knowing how to phrase my thought tactfully, I blurted, "Didn't you find that strange? His sending us away like this?"

  "Yeah," she agreed, her voice tentative.

  "Why, do you think?"

  "I don't know. The man's just weird, I guess." She paused, then her voice grew thoughtful. "You know, maybe they had some alcohol."

  I could feel my eyes grow wide. "You don't think…"

  "Who knows? I can't think of any other reason they'd want us gone." Since I couldn't either, I nodded my head, considering. Alcohol, of course, was completely forbidden on a mission, but it could be that some Primos allowed their crews a congratulatory toast. On board ship, of course, Primo Turner was commanding officer in that he made the final decisions regarding the mission per se. However, Christy and I, as females, held a higher ranking in society. We could make a good deal of trouble for Primo Turner, if we wished. That would explain, I realized, the sneaky way the other men were watching the conversation.

  I thought of the old Earth proverb that my teachers had taught me from babyhood. "A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle." How true, I reflected. Men were such childish fools. It was no wonder that women now ran the government. But our scientists had not been able to suppress testosterone completely, and this, I knew, accounted for men's attraction to such fields as Space Exploratory. Many men, of course, chose not to work at all, and after this display, if they really had chased us away on a ruse so they could drink, it certainly proved that every field, including Exploratory, would be far more professionally run if women handled everything.

  Even as I was more or less disgusted by the Primo's immaturity, I found that this reasonable explanation reassured me and put me in a much better mood. Coming to Gamma Rigel was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I probably did not appreciate it enough yet, simply because, with such short notice, I'd had no time to anticipate it. My colleagues, at a hastily-organized congratulatory luncheon, had certainly been open enough with their envy.

  We walked on towards the sound of the water, which slowly grew louder. I chatted with Christy, finding her truly interested in my research ideas, and I described some of the projects I'd outlined over the last two days. After some time, though, Christy stopped abruptly, and looked behind us. We'd been walking down a rather long incline, the soil smooth, covered only with fallen foliage under our feet. "Are we going to be able to find our way back?" she asked, her voice flat

  I followed her eyes. "Well, sure," I began, but even as I said the words, I was less than certain. There was no real path, and… I stopped. "How far have we come?" I tried to remember just how long I had been chattering to her about my research. Suddenly, it seemed like a rather long time.

  Her face was still as she looked at me. "I don't know. At least a click, I would think."

  I suddenly noticed something else. The sound of water had increased slightly in the first few minutes of our walking, but now the sound had almost faded. Were we walking away from the waterfall? Yet this was the direction Turner had pointed… or was it? Maybe we'd become totally twisted around. All the doubts and questions I had had, going back to the fact that I knew perfectly well that I had been told that there was no set-down planned, came crashing back on me. Something was wrong, dreadfully wrong. "I want to go back."

  Christy nodded quickly. Suddenly her eyes narrowed. "Look… over there. It's a break in the woods. I think we'll be able to see better." Stumbling over fallen branches and dead leaves, we forged our ways into the small glade. It was a good plan; maybe we'd be able to see back up the ridge and catch a glimpse of the Drakkon. Together we scanned the panoramic view… and simultaneously, we inhaled in long, painful gasps. Below us, not more than a quarter click away, was a road. Although of dirt, it was fairly wide and well-maintained. Through the trees, following the road with our eyes, down in a valley, a walled town was clearly visible. "What's going on here?" Christy's voice was a high, frantic squeak. "We're right on top of something!"

  "I'm going back. Now." I tried to keep my voice even, but inside I was shaking like a leaf. We jogged along at a quick trot. I tried to balance quiet and speed, conscious that there could easily be people in the woods. Hunters… who knew what? How had this happened? Had some of the scan units broken? How could they have set down for a dry run virtually on top of human habitation? We had to warn the others, as quickly as possible.

  "I thought you were a navigator," I snapped, trying to ignore a stitch in my side.

  "Deep space," she rasped back. "I got nothing to do with this."

  "How," I gasped, "could this happen? Couldn't you see?"

  "You got to realize how fast we're moving coming in," she panted out. "Ten clicks per second until just two seconds prior to touch down. It's impossible to see much of anything and what you do get a glimpse of… you've got no way of knowing how far away it is." She took a deep breath. "That's what the fucking computers are for."

  "But how…"

  "I don't know, Jen. I don't know."

  We topped the rise. My legs were a mass of shooting pain and sweat dripped off my back. There it was… the opening in the trees. We burst through into the glade… and stopped. The breeze blew, wafting warm, humid air, idly moving the long grasses. Birds sang. The sun shone warm on our faces.

  And we were alone.

  "We took a wrong turn." We were sprinting
back down the ridge, trying to find where we had initially turned back.

  "I don't think so, Jen." Christy's voice was a rasping sob. "I think they realized their mistake… maybe even someone actually came out of the woods… and they had to abort."

  "Abort? You mean lift-off? Why would they? So what if some primitive shows up with a spear or two? They'd just subdue and wait for us to come back. Terminate if they had to. No, we just got lost. Don't panic. We'll find the ship."

  "I don't think so," Christy repeated, but doggedly she followed me. The trees, suddenly all looking astonishingly identical, passed us by. Within a few moments, we had found the place where we'd turned around the first time… or at least we thought we had. I thought the view looked a little different… Christy thought it was the same. We looked at each other, both plainly thinking: now what?

  There was a long silence, broken only by our heaving breath. "What do we do?" Christy finally spoke, voicing the uncertainly that we both felt. "Do we turn around and walk back again?"

  I shook my head, and wiped the oily sweat off my forehead with my sleeve. My entire chest hurt. "We already tried that. Let's go down to the road and walk along the ridge from that angle. Maybe we'll be able to see the ship." I considered the Drakkon small, but that was mostly just my frame of reference. It was only small compared to some of the city-sized deep space cruisers. It was actually still a fairly substantial craft, and its brilliant metallic shell should have been visible through the trees for some distance, if the angle were right.

  We climbed down to the road, then and began walking back the direction we'd come. Essentially, the road appeared to run parallel to the ridge, and I thought my plan a sound one. If we walked far enough, and looked up, maybe we'd be able either to see the craft far above us, or at least to hear voices.