Starfire

by B. V. Larson

  Jackie lost track of what was happening for a short time. That must have been after they hit a big tree head-on and came to a sudden halt. When she awakened, ribs aching, she saw white fabric air bags hanging from a half-dozen spots around the car. Each of them was limp and deflated.

  She groggily moaned and reached out toward the front seat. Sandeep was slumped over the wheel. She clutched his shoulder, then slipped her hand to his neck. His pulse was measurable, but he was unconscious.

  She reached next toward Detective Perez—but the passenger door was open, and he was gone.

  “Detective?” she called weakly. She struggled with her door, finding that it was stuck.

  Suddenly, a hand opened the door for her. She looked up and saw a gun.

  There wasn’t time to fight, or to scream. She froze in shock for a split-second—then the gun went off.

  She thought she was dead, but the bullet missed her, firing into the seat beside her. How could anyone have missed at this range? It was a strange thought, but then it was a strange moment for her as she was facing death.

  The man who had pulled her car door open was silhouetted by a single glaring headlight from the truck that had hit them and followed them as they careened down the hill. The truck was tall, with huge tires and a roll bar. The second headlight had been knocked out and hung like a plucked eyeball from the grill.

  She couldn’t make out the man’s face, the man who would surely kill her in the next moments. He was a dark shape in the midst of the glare.

  A second shot popped loud, echoing from the road and the trees. A dark spray of blood and brains splashed over her, and the stranger slumped down onto her lap. She pushed the body away, giving little desperate shrieks as she did so.

  Another figure stood behind the dead stranger. She recognized his shape. It was Detective Perez.

  “Why didn’t he kill me?” she asked.

  “Because he wasn’t aiming at you,” he said.

  He pointed toward the seat next to her. She looked and saw her notebook computer.

  There was a neat, round hole in the middle of it.

  Chapter 11

  Arctic Ocean Seabed

  Darkness

  Lieutenant Lev Burkov had never been a soft-hearted man, but then he’d never before faced the death of an entire crew at sea.

  He felt moved to mourn them. Even as he dragged their bodies from the bridge and dumped them one at a time in the forward torpedo room, he noted each man’s name and told the corpseBog proshchayet—God forgives. It was something he’d once seen an orthodox priest do when dealing with a dead family as they were packed into a truck and hauled away. He’d been a child at the time, living under Soviet rule, and he’d never learned from the adults why the family had died. But it didn’t matter to the priest. He’d done what he could for them.

  The only limp form left on the deck of the bridge when he was finished was that of the director. He ignored her as he worked to get the sub operating again. It had sunk down to the bottom, according to the instruments that still worked. That could mean the death of them, right there. The bottom of the Arctic Ocean was often treacherous.

  The exact navigational position of the Artifact had never been made clear to Lev, and he hadn’t asked. In his business, one did not ask about secrets. You were told, or you weren’t.

  As best he could tell from plastic charts he’d dragged out of storage and the last GPS coordinates in the logs, they were in the north of the East Siberian Sea. Probably somewhere near the edge of the Amundsen Basin. Judging by the depth, they had to be on top of the Lomonsov Ridge, a region of relatively shallow water between two deep basins. If they’d sunk all the way into the deeper regions on either side of the ridge, the sub would have been crushed by the fantastic pressure that would have been applied to the hull.

  He made a mental note not to let the boat wander west, if he ever got her moving again. Amundsen Basin was the deepest part of the Arctic Ocean, and he was certain Vepr would not survive if he ventured there.

  Taking stock of functional systems, his situation appeared to be grim. Sonar was out, as were all radio communications. Even the long-wave VLF systems were dead. He could not call on a secure channel for help—even if someone could have heard him through the icepack far above.

  He had plenty of oxygen. The boat was designed to keep a large crew alive, and there were only two breathing souls left aboard. The fresh water and food supplies were equally generous.

  The thought occurred to Lev that he could simply sit on the bottom for months if necessary. Eventually, someone would come looking for him. He could release transponders, greatly increasing his odds of being found and rescued, even under the ice.

  But with typical Russian stubbornness, he refused to do so. This project was under the ultimate level of secrecy. Everything about this boat and the Artifact he’d just visited was to be kept from the western powers at all costs. They were not to know what his country was up to, regardless of the fact that Lev didn’t understand it himself. Finding a disabled sub here would bring vessels and scrutiny. They would help, but then they would investigate. Lev decided without a qualm that he would die before he gave away the position of the Artifact.

  Three hours later, he discovered an emergency manual written in simple terms with diagrams. He walked the bridge, making the adjustments and working the back-up manual control systems. Overbuilt in the manner of most Russian military hardware, the boat could operate at a basic level without her computer systems, unlike some of her western counterparts.

  Hours later, he finally felt ready. He moved to the bow-planes.

  This was it. He’d direct the ship upward, blow the ballast tanks, and engage the motors to turn the aft screws. He didn’t dare attempt to use the nuclear boiler to power the ship. He was happy enough that the reactor hadn’t ruptured thus far. His knowledge of the heat-driven turbines was very limited, and he didn’t want to chance fooling with it—especially without the help of the computer systems. He would have to limp along on battery power as far as he could.

  He took a deep breath and laid his hands on the controls. He would have to walk across the cramped bridge several times, moving from one operator’s station to another. With a hesitant hand, he made the first change to the settings.

  The lights dimmed in reaction to his alterations, then they brightened again. The sub shivered, and there was a groaning, whining sound as motors worked to do his bidding.

  “Are you insane?” asked a voice.

  Startled, Lev turned to look at the woman he’d left on the steel decking near his feet. She was up on one elbow, looking at him.

  “Some would say so,” he admitted.

  She stared at him. “Why are we still alive?”

  “I took you into the reactor chamber. Our radiation suits protected us from the reactor core, while the reactor’s shielding protected us from whatever it was that you released.”

  She nodded slowly and sat up with painful movements. Her hand went to her head and rubbed there. Her fingers and hair were bloody and matted, but she was still an attractive woman, if past her prime.

  Lev steeled himself against feeling any kind of sympathy for this saboteur. She deserved death, and the only reason he hadn’t yet killed her was that he hadn’t been given the order. He’d complete his mission by taking her home to Moscow—in a box if he had to.

  “I didn’t do anything special,” she said. “It was going to happen anyway. I just sped up the process. The Artifact has been building up for a surge for months.”

  Lev didn’t respond. He stared at her expressionlessly. He wondered if he should tie her up or lock her in a cabin somewhere.

  “What is your name, soldier?” the woman asked. “I do assume you’re a soldier.”

  “I am Lieutenant Lev Burkov,” he said. “You are my prisoner.”

  “I’m a representative of the government. I can’t be arrested under these circumstances.”

  This elicited a chuckle from L
ev. It was not a pleasant sound. “You will be free to lodge a complaint with the bureaucrats in Moscow—assuming we survive long enough to reach home.”

  She licked her lips and started to stand, then paused. “Can I get to my feet?”

  Lev made a gesture, indicating she should rise and take a seat at the navigator’s station. She did so, watching him as one might watch a dangerous snake.

  He’d already searched her, finding no weapons. She was helpless in his estimation. Nevertheless, he would keep a watchful eye on her. Looks could be deceiving. He reminded himself she’d managed to engineer the deaths of over a hundred people today alone.

  “You said I must be crazy when you first awakened,” he said. “Why?”

  “Because you were about to kill us.”

  He twisted his lips and turned back to his instruments. “We’re sitting on the bottom of the Arctic Ocean. The boat is crippled. I’m trying to get her moving again.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve spent months in subs. Underwater research has been my strength since my first days at the university.”

  Lev’s eyes ran over the controls. He couldn’t see anything he’d done wrong—but he had to admit he had no real idea what he was doing.

  “You can’t just aim the sub upward and shoot to the surface,” she said.

  “You’re talking about the icecap. I’m not an idiot. I planned to level off before we reached shallow depths.”

  “The stresses on the ship would be too great anyway. We don’t know the condition of the vessel. Decompression, a damaged boat, no computer systems—we have no idea what’s outside the hull. We could ram into a rock. We could be sitting under a spike of ice. Without sonar—at least passive sonar—we’re blind.”

  Lev shrugged. “What can be done about that?” he asked. “We cannot repair these systems. Radiation and possibly an EMP blast damaged the circuitry. We’re lucky the actuator motors aren’t burned out.”

  “I’ll have to look around,” the director said, rising to her feet. “I’ll check the engine room and go over every advanced system to see what can be put back into service. Don’t touch anything until I return.”

  She turned to go, but his hand clasped her wrist in an iron grip.

  “I will come with you,” he said.

  Looking into his eyes, she chose not to argue.

  As they walked down the passages, passing many dead, the woman expressed anguish at the sight of them.

  “You killed these men,” Lev pointed out. “Aren’t you happy to see their corpses?”

  She tossed her head and looked back at him in sudden anger. “I’m not a monster. I did what I had to.”

  Lev absorbed this statement and continued following her through the narrow, dim-lit passages. As they went, they shut down unneeded lights and beeping alarms. These systems could only serve to drain the batteries faster at this point.

  “When we first met,” Lev said. “You appeared to be expecting death.”

  “That’s true.”

  “But now you appear to want to live. Why is that?”

  She sighed. “I did not think of your tactic. I didn’t think there was any way to survive the signal.”

  “What signal?”

  “The radiation blast. I was certain we were all going to die. Now that the signal has been sent, and I’m still alive, I find that I want to keep living.”

  He grabbed her arm and spun her around. His face was emotionless, but his words were not.

  “You killed these men. It isn’t right that you should walk over their bodies like a queen while they stretch on the deck in death. They died in agony. How does that make you feel?”

  “You’re hurting my arm,” she said.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “I doubt a man like you could understand.”

  “Try to explain it to me.”

  “Let go, and I will.”

  He let go of her, and she backed away from him a step. He could tell she feared him even if she was putting up a brave front. Her actions had baffled him from the start. He decided that he would not move from this spot until he had some answers.

  “Lev—you said your name was Lev, correct?” she asked.

  He made no reply. His eyes bored into her.

  “The signal was coming. I was not in control of it. All I did was cause it to be sent early. That might be a good thing, Lev. A good thing for all humanity. That’s why I did it.”

  “You’re not making sense.”

  “There’s so much you don’t know.”

  “Then explain it to me. I will not ask you a third time.”

  She stared at him for a moment. “This is about the Artifact. Do you know what it is?”

  “No. Do you?”

  “Not entirely. I do know that it was built by—by someone else.”

  “Who? The Americans?”

  “Hardly. I’m talking about non-humans.”

  Lev snorted. “Aliens? You’re talking about aliens.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “What difference does it make what we call them? Angels, devils, gods—aliens. They aren’t human.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Carbon dating, for one thing. The Artifact is just over a hundred years old, and yet it took root at the bottom of our coldest sea. No human could have built such a structure that long ago.”

  “What is the purpose of this thing?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know that. But it was built to sense us, and to change our world. I’m sure of that. When we came near it, the radiation built up. We studied it but never understood it. When at last we recognized it was reacting to radio signals and other radiation, the scientists dampened their own emissions. They tried to quiet the thing, to calm it.”

  Lev glowered. He didn’t know what to believe, but the idea that the Artifact was of extraterrestrial origin could not be dismissed by anyone who had seen it firsthand. It was undeniably alien. There was an otherness about it that encroached upon the mind and raised the hackles on a man’s neck every minute one was inside it.

  “Okay,” he said. “Let’s say I believe you. The Artifact was of unknown origin, and it was placed in a secretive spot for an unknown purpose. Why did you think it would send a signal?”

  “It was pulsing, building up for it. I recognized the behavior. Like an old analog system warming up and coming to life slowly. I…I knew what was coming. The rest of them knew it, too. Not all would admit it, but they all tried to sneak around in the base like mice. Instead of an air of excitement, there was always an air of dread for anyone visiting the place. They had the eyes of doomed men, all of them.”

  “So, what did you do?” asked Lev.

  “It was simple enough. After I arrived and figured out what we were dealing with, I ordered them to stimulate the Artifact.”

  Lev’s eyes narrowed. “Stimulate it?”

  “Yes. To do all the things they’d been avoiding. To disturb the dragon’s rest. You see, over many months they’d learned to be quiet. To creep within the guts of the monster and keep it asleep. But I would not allow that. I demanded that our presence be known. I beat on its ribs and screeched in its ear.”

  Lev was fairly convinced the woman was mad, but he thought he might as well learn everything he could about her fantasies while she was willing to talk openly about them. There might even be a grain of truth buried in her story.

  “But…why would you attempt to anger this sleeping god?” he asked.

  She gave him an appraising glance, and he wondered disinterestedly if his mocking tone had offended her. After a moment, she answered him.

  “So that it would send its signal, Lieutenant,” she said. “It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not. What’s done is done.”

  “What will a signal sent out into space tell us?”

  “Where the Artifact came from. The signal was designed to be tightly focused.”

  “Focused on what? Couldn’t you tell which way it was aiming, whether it transmitted or
not?”

  “The Earth spins, even up in the polar regions. The moment it chose to transmit determined the target. But we knew it was aiming out along the Plane of the Ecliptic—that’s the region of space in which Earth orbits the Sun. All the planets in the Solar System lie within the plane.”

  “Yes, I took astronomy in school.”

  “Well then you understand that we believed the signal was aimed somewhere within this star system.”

  Lev twisted his lips. “Unlikely,” he said. “There’s nothing out there but lifeless rocks.”

  “We thought the bottom of the Arctic Sea was lifeless a century ago.”

  Lev dismissed her words as unimportant.

  “Anyway,” he said, “did you manage to trigger this signal? Can it be traced?”

  “I believe so. They know the truth by now back in Moscow. There are many remote monitoring stations. They know where that intense beam of radiation went. They know who was told that humanity has finally grown up and become a technological civilization.”

  “But why do such a thing?” he demanded, exasperated. “It would be so dangerous. We have no idea who is listening for this signal, or who may act because of it.”

  “That’s right,” she said. “But you don’t know the full story. I’m a director from the Ministry of Science, which governs our space programs. I felt the action was necessary.”

  She turned away then, and he let her. They headed for the engine room without speaking further.

  Lev didn’t know what to think. Could she be right? It seemed more likely that she was insane. Whatever the case, he decided it didn’t matter. He’d let the eggheads in Moscow decide what to do with the data she had provided at great loss of life. He’d let the politicians and judges decide if she should be imprisoned or shot. It was none of his concern.

  He would follow this woman, repair this sub, and take them both home—or he would die trying.

  Chapter 12

  The Santa Cruz Mountains, California

  Night

  When Sandeep regained consciousness, he didn’t curse or shout. Instead, he waved to the two of them.