All around the Squad the forest was collapsing and falling apart, yet still somehow clinging to awful forms of life. The Squad edged back down the trail, a few feet at a time, force shields spitting and crackling, edge to edge, as they formed a defensive barrier round the group. The forest had become unrecognisable. Vague shapes stirred in the frothing carpet that boiled around the Squad, fountaining up into blurred forms with teeth and claws and staring eyes. The remaining trees were slumping against each other, losing definition and meaning as they mixed and merged. The living rain continued, and the shadows became subtly darker.
Hunter’s breathing had become painfully quick and hurried, and he had to fight for air. All his instincts were screaming at him to cut and run for the boundary, but he couldn’t do that. Panic gnawed at his courage, but he wouldn’t give the forest the satisfaction of seeing him run. He had led his people into the trap, and he would lead them safely out again. Somehow he kept the fear out of his face, and if his hands trembled he wasn’t alone in that. He fired his disrupter ahead of him, blowing away a mass of twitching branches that sought to block the trail. It helped to at last have something solid and real to face, so he could bury his panic in the rush of action. He glanced at Corbie and Lindholm beside him. Lindholm was smiling absently as his blade flashed out to cut through a reaching black tentacle. Corbie’s sword work was slower and less sure, but he fought with a furious, dogged tenacity that kept the forest at bay. Hunter looked away, disgusted at the panic that still tore at him, blind and stupid and almost overwhelming.
If there’s any hope for this Squad’s survival, he thought bitterly, it lies with those marines, not with me. They’re fighting men … and I’m not. Not any longer.
It seemed to take forever to reach the edge of the forest, but suddenly the gloom gave way to sharp, brilliant light, and the air was clean and fresh again. The Squad staggered away from the boundary, weak with shock and relief but still somehow holding formation and keeping their guns trained on the forest. Branches like long gnarled fingers stretched out after the Squad with slow, sinuous movements, but seemed unable to pass far beyond the forest’s boundary. Hunter slowly lowered his gun and turned off his force shield, and one by one the others did the same.
“Looks like you were right, esper,” said the Investigator calmly. “The forest is alive and aware.”
“Smells more like it’s been dead for months,” said Corbie. He scrubbed determinedly at the black stains that fouled his uniform, quietly pleased that his voice sounded calm and steady.
The Squad cleaned themselves up as best they could, brushing away the marks the forest had left on them. A thick, viscous slime clung to their clothes and skin. It seemed to pulse slowly with a life of its own and had an unpleasant fleshy feel. The Squad took turns scraping it off each other’s backs and shoulders.
“No wonder there weren’t any birds or animals in the forest,” said Hunter finally. “The forest must have eaten them all. That damn stuff’s got the perfect camouflage. You don’t realise you’re in any danger till you’re right in the middle of it.” He turned to DeChance. “What can you sense now, esper?”
DeChance frowned. “Nothing clear. Hunger. Rage. Pain. And other things I don’t recognise. If they’re emotions, they’ve no human equivalent.”
“What are we going to do now, Captain?” Williams’ voice was polite but pointed. “We can’t go through the forest, but going round it will add miles to our route.”
“Then we’ll just have to walk a little further,” said Hunter. “The exercise will do us good.”
He kept his voice carefully easy and relaxed. It now seemed certain they’d have to spend the night out in the open, the one thing he’d wanted to avoid, but there was no point in worrying his people unnecessarily. They should be safe enough, provided they took reasonable precautions.
Krystel looked thoughtfully at the forest. The trees at the boundary had resumed their normal shape, but beyond them there was only a seething darkness. “I think we were lucky in there, Captain. The forest could have killed us all if it had reacted to us quicker.”
“It was asleep,” said Megan DeChance. “It had been asleep for a long time. We woke it up.”
Hunter looked sharply at the esper. Her voice was slow and slurred, and her pale eyes were vague and lost. She stood facing the forest, but her gaze seemed fixed on something far beyond. The Squad looked at each other uncertainly. Lindholm took her by the arm and shook her gently, but she didn’t respond. Hunter gestured for the marine to leave her be, and stepped in close beside her.
“It’s been asleep a long time,” said the esper. “Dreaming. Stirring occasionally as the world turned. It’s all been asleep….”
“What has, Megan?” asked Hunter softly.
“Everything.” Her eyes suddenly cleared, and she shook her head dazedly. “Captain, I… don’t know what I was picking up there. I was tapping into something immense, but it was so strange, so …”
“Alien,” said Investigator Krystel.
“Yes,” said DeChance, almost reluctantly. “I’m sorry I can’t be more specific, Captain. I’ve never felt anything like that before. I didn’t begin that trance; something called to me. Something … horrible.”
The simple loathing in her voice silenced the Squad for a while. Hunter was the first to pull himself together.
“All right,” he said briskly. “Keep listening. If whatever it was tries to contact you again, let me know immediately.” He looked away from the esper and scowled at the forest. If there was something out there watching for them, it might be best to provide it with a smaller target… or two.
He turned his back on the forest and addressed the Squad. “We’re going to split into two groups, people. The Investigator, Dr. Williams, and I will try the western route round the forest. The rest of you will follow the eastern route. Take your time, keep it quiet, and keep your heads down. Two small parties should be harder to spot than one big one, but only as long as we’re careful not to draw attention to ourselves. The two routes looked to be pretty much equal in length on the computer map, but the terrain is different; that could cause difficulties. Whichever group gets to the city first is to wait at the boundary until the other team joins up with them. That’s an order. DeChance, you’re in charge of your group. Remember, everyone, the purpose of this little trip is to gather information, not to take needless risks. All right, that’s it. Let’s go, people.”
The two marines nodded briefly, and then set off towards the east with Megan DeChance. Hunter watched the esper go, and frowned thoughtfully. He had no doubts about Lindholm and Corbie; they could look after themselves. But the esper … that last trance of hers worried him. She’d looked … different, out of control somehow, as though the contact had briefly overwhelmed her. He sighed quietly. The trouble with espers was that they were so damned spooky even under normal conditions, you couldn’t be sure if there was anything wrong with them or not.
It was asleep. We woke it up.
Woke what up? Hunter scowled. There were always more questions, and never enough answers to go round. Still, the odds were the city would change all that. One way or another. Hunter nodded abruptly to the doctor and the Investigator, and set off towards the west, giving the forest boundary a more than comfortable margin. Williams and Krystel followed silently after him.
Behind them, the forest moved through shape after shape, searching through memories of times long gone for one form it could hold to.
They walked in silence for the best part of an hour. The forest gradually began to settle back into stillness, and the trees at the forest’s boundary became firm and solid. Dirty yellow leaves hung from steady iron-black branches, and the gnarled boles were thick arçd sturdy. But further within, the darkness still stirred and writhed. Indistinct forms came and went, and the few shapes Hunter could make out were strangely disturbing, as though they hovered on the edge of meaning without ever achieving it. His hand itched for his disrupter. The forest o
ffended him. He wanted to burn it to the ground, cleanse it with fire, punish it for pretending to be something it wasn’t. In an alien world, where nothing looks or feels right, there’s a constant temptation to see the familiar in things that bear only a slight resemblance to the original memory. The forest had looked reassuringly normal, almost comforting. Hunter had badly wanted to find at least one place on his new world where he could feel safe and at ease. Now that had been denied him. The forest had betrayed him by being alien.
Investigator Krystel studied her two companions dispassionately as they walked along together. The Captain was going to be a problem. He wasn’t being decisive enough. From her own experience in the field she knew that staying alive on an alien world depended on quick thinking and quicker reflexes. If the Captain had listened to the esper’s warnings, the forest wouldn’t have caught them unaware. The Captain was too trusting. Krystel smiled slightly. There was only one rule to follow in studying the alien: be prepared to shoot first.
She had her orders. In the event that Hunter proved unsatisfactory as team leader, she was to replace him. By force, if necessary. It shouldn’t be too difficult. The doctor wouldn’t oppose her; he was weak, and easily swayed. The marines would follow orders, no matter who they came from, providing they were given confidently enough. And the esper would do as she was told. Espers knew their place. But when all was said and done, Krystel had no wish to be team leader. She didn’t care for the work or the responsibility of giving orders. She worked best when others set the goals and restrictions for her. She knew where she was then. Her role as Investigator left her free to concentrate on the things that really interested her. Like killing aliens. So she’d give Hunter all the rope he needed. And only hang him with it if it proved necessary.
The alien city troubled her. Technically, she should have insisted on contacting the Empire the moment they discovered the city’s existence, but she didn’t want to do that, just yet. Firstly, she’d look a fool if it turned out to be nothing more than a deserted ruin. They’d accuse her of panicking. And secondly, if she reported the city, the Empire would take it away from her. They wouldn’t trust her to do the job properly; not after Grendel. The Fleet would send their own team in, and they’d get all the glory. Krystel wanted this city for herself. She’d use it to prove to the Empire that they’d been wrong about her. She was still an Investigator.
She tapped into the pinnace’s computers, and ran the records on the city. The strange towers and monoliths lay superimposed on the scene before her, like pale, disturbing ghosts. The patterns and buildings matched nothing she’d seen anywhere else, which was something of a relief. The Empire’s main fear had always been that someday it would run into an alien counterpart. So far, interstellar war was nothing more than a computer fantasy, and everyone fervently hoped it would stay that way. After the discoveries on Grendel, the computer predictions had become increasingly gloomy. Whatever had created the living killing machines on Grendel was quite possibly even more deadly and implacable than the Empire itself.
Aliens. As yet there had been no sightings of who or whatever built the city, but still Krystel felt a familiar tingle of excitement running through her at the thought of encountering a new alien species. There was something about the use of sword and gun that brought her truly alive. All Investigators knew a single truth, and based their lives around it. Mankind has always achieved its best in the pursuit of violence. Investigators were the end result of society’s search for the perfect killer; the most deadly weapon humanity could forge.
And like all weapons, they needed constant tempering in the heat of battle to maintain their strength and cutting edge.
Williams tried to keep his eyes away from the melting forest, and concentrated on the alien city. There was money to be made there; he could feel it. But the Captain was going to be a problem. Dictatorial, overbearing, and too straitlaced for his own good, that one. If there were any profits to be made from this world, Williams had a strong feeling it would be in spite of, rather than because of, Captain Hunter. Still… Williams smiled slightly. It was a dangerous world. It was always possible the Captain would have an accident. A very regrettable, but thoroughly fatal accident.
The forest moved slowly past them as they made their way round its perimeter. Hunter kept a careful eye on the frozen boundary, but the forest made no threatening moves. He began to breathe more easily. Perhaps the forest was going back to sleep again.
The bright sun was high in the morning sky when they came across the water hole. It was roughly circular, some ten feet across, and maybe a dozen yards away from the forest boundary. Hunter brought the group to a halt, and stood a cautious distance away from the water hole while he studied it. The water lay a foot or so beneath the level of the surrounding ground, which was dry and rock-hard, just like everywhere else. The water was a dark crimson colour, and when Hunter leaned forward he caught a whiff of a faint, sharp smell he couldn’t identify. The sides of the hole were scalloped in a series of regular markings, and looked as though they’d be unpleasantly slick and smooth to the touch.
“We’d better mark the hole’s position,” said Hunter finally. “We’re going to need a supply of fresh water soon.”
“Assuming that stuff’s drinkable,” said Krystel. “We only have a limited supply of purification tablets.”
“Yeah.” Hunter frowned. “I should have brought some dowsing equipment, so I could run tests on freely-occurring water. It’s one of the things we’re going to have to sort out fairly quickly. Damn.”
“Don’t care much for the colour,” said Krystel. “Or the smell.”
“Perhaps I can help,” said Williams. He moved forward slowly, keeping a watchful eye on the water hole, and then knelt down beside it.
Hunter drew his gun and trained it on the well. “That’s close enough, Doctor. What did you have in mind?”
Williams held up his left hand, and retractable sharp-edged sensor spikes emerged from under his fingernails. “I have a number of options built in, Captain. You never know when they’ll come in handy. Now, with your permission…”
Hunter looked around. The forest was still and quiet, and the open plain was bare and empty for as far as he could see. “All right, Doctor; go ahead. But be very careful. There’s no telling how far down that water goes, or what else might be in it apart from water.”
“Understood, Captain.” Williams leaned forward, and lowered his fingertips into the water. The extruded sensors glowed faintly; five shimmering sparks in the crimson water. Bright metallic lettering appeared before his eyes, detailing the water’s ingredients.
“Well?” said Hunter. “Is it drinkable?”
“I’m afraid not, Captain. This stuff’s more like soup than water. Most unusual makeup. I’m reading metallic salts, a fairly high acid level, and what appears to be some kind of enzymes.”
Krystel frowned. “That isn’t a naturally occurring mixture, Captain. It sounds more … organic.”
“Yeah,” said Hunter. “I think you’d better get away from there, Doctor.”
Williams drew his hand back out of the water, and the dweller below struck quickly while its prey was still within range. A dark blue tentacle shot up out of the water and slapped around Williams’ wrist. He screamed with pain as the hold tightened viciously, and had to brace his legs against the side of the well to keep from being drawn in. The tentacle snapped taut.
Hunter fired instinctively with his disrupter, and severed the tentacle. Williams fell backwards, and scrambled away from the water hole without bothering to get up. The severed tentacle thrashed back and forth in the water. Pale purple blood flew on the air. Hunter stepped back to avoid it, and three more tentacles erupted out of the churning water, attracted by the movement. They whipped around Hunter, pinning his arms to his sides, and then snapped taut. Hunter crashed to the ground, and fought desperately against the tentacles’ pull. Their hold tightened, and hundreds of miniscule barbs grated against his steelmesh tunic
.
Krystel drew her sword and cut at the nearest tentacle. The sharp edge barely penetrated the leathery flesh, and she sawed at the tentacle to try and weaken it. The Captain was dragged steadily closer to the well’s edge, despite all his struggles. Krystel glared at Williams, who was sitting nursing his bruised wrist.
“Grab him, dammit; I can’t do it all myself!”
For a moment, Williams was tempted to tell her to go to hell. He wasn’t about to risk his life for the Captain’s. One look at Krystel changed that. He wasn’t stupid enough to get an Investigator mad at him. He moved quickly forward and grabbed Hunter’s legs. The extra weight slowed the tentacles down, but Hunter was still being drawn closer to the water’s edge. Krystel sheathed her sword, drew her gun, and fired into the water. The tentacles writhed, slamming Hunter and Williams against the ground, but didn’t release their hold. Krystel swore unemotionally, and put away her gun. She unclipped a concussion grenade from her bandolier, primed it, and tossed the grenade into the middle of the well. It quickly disappeared, and for a long moment nothing happened. The tentacles snapped taut again, and Hunter dug his heels in against the broken ground. Williams clung to the Captain’s legs and swore breathlessly.
Water fountained up out of the well as the grenade exploded down below. The tentacles bucked and heaved, casting Hunter and Williams away. The water boiled and frothed, and chunks of partially broiled flesh bobbed to the surface. The tentacles whipped back into the water and disappeared. The surface of the water gradually grew still, and a long, peaceful silence fell over the water hole.
Hellworld (Deathstalker Prelude) Page 6
