To Well And Back (The Deep Dark Well)

by Doug Dandridge

  I wish I could have done better by you, Avenger, she thought, running a gloved hand over the panel.

  “They see us,” said the computer, and the ship bucked slightly as it changed vectors in an evasive manner. “Five minutes to insertion.”

  “Do your best,” she said to the ship, starting for the door. She entered the hall and jogged down to her room, feeling the floor vibrating under her feet from a hit. Reaching her state room she grabbed a hard tube which contained a few things she wanted and attached it to her suit, then headed back to the armory.

  “Four minutes to insertion,” called out the computer. “We are out of sight from the larger Nation force, but will be coming into sight of the other in thirty seconds. And there is fighting going on at the surface of the planet.”

  “Show me,” ordered Pandi while she attached some more ordnance to her suit, then grabbed a combination rifle/grenade launcher and carried it from the armory.

  A view of the planet appeared on her Heads Up Display, red and green dots on an area it was zooming in on.

  “I want to get as close to that area as you can get me,” said Pandi, jogging toward the cargo bay.

  “I can probably get you within a few kilometers of the landing field,” said the computer. “If I am not shot down in the meantime.”

  “Do the best you can,” said Pandi, stepping through the door into the cargo bay. Twenty-three robotic heads turned a hundred and eighty-four visual receptors her way.

  [OK, children] said Pandi over the secure mental com link to the robots. [Let’s check you out right quick.]

  Pandi projected herself into the link, looking through the eyes of first one robot, then another, until she had looked through ten of them and stopped, figuring that the rest of them were probably good as well.

  “We’re taking fire,” said the computer, while the ship rocked and bucked around her. “Orbital insertion in one minute.”

  “How long to that containment breach?” asked Pandi, frowning as no answer came back. “Computer, reply.” But there still was none.

  The ship started to rock and buck, growing heavier and heavier each moment, and Pandora knew that they had entered the atmosphere. It felt hotter in the compartment, friction was growing on the outer skin while the ship went deeper into the denser part of the atmosphere. And the holes in the hull couldn’t be helping.

  “Computer, answer,” yelled Pandi over the link. “I need to know what’s happening.

  “Crap,” she cursed, not receiving an answer. “Nothing to it but to go,” she said, pushing the manual cargo hatch release. She frowned as nothing happened and pushed the panel again. And then again, feeling panic begin to overcome her.

  “Suit computer,” she called out, linking to the local incidence of the same avatar as the ship.

  “Yes, mistress,” said the familiar voice. It had the same personality as the ship computer, but much less computational and memory resources. It was probably still better than most of the comps used by the foe.

  “How long till containment breach?”

  “I am unable to contact the ship,” said the comp in a neutral cheerful voice. “So I cannot answer that question.”

  “How far into the atmosphere are we?”

  “I cannot answer that question.”

  “How do I get this hatch open?”

  “Working,” said the computer, leaving Pandi to contemplate the destruction of this ship and herself in it.

  The ship shook again and started to turn over, flinging Pandora against the wall, while the robots dug in with their magnetic footing. I’m gonna die, thought the woman from the past. Forty-six thousand years after I should have.

  Chapter Eight

  I have never wanted to rule. That has never been my goal. My goal is to raise the numerous species of the Galaxy back to the level they were before the fall, that all may enjoy the fruits of a high technology civilization. After that it is up to the sentient races of the Galaxy to form what government they wish, using peaceful means of discussion and discourse. At that point I will step aside, and watch what happens. Memoirs of Watcher.

  “Stupid woman,” screamed Watcher after minutes of staring at the blank com panel. He felt aggravated and afraid at the same time, both feelings he didn’t like when they came at him separately, and really was not fond of in combination. “Stupid fucking woman.”

  He wondered again why he ever gave his heart to a damned short lived normal. Even if she lived to her full potential he would be left alone again in four or five centuries. That sounded like a long time, but to one who had been alive for six thousand years, it was like a year to a normal. And then she had to go and risk her neck like it was some kind of game.

  Watcher grabbed a glass from the nearby table and flung it at the wall. The glass was not glass, and the hardened plastic bounced from the almost indestructible wall, almost hitting one of the cats that was laying on the couch underneath where it struck. The cat howled and took off, disappearing from the room, stirring up the others who also got away while the getting was good.

  “What the hell was she thinking? What in the hell was she thinking?” And then Watcher caught himself, wondering what in the hell he was thinking. I’m supposed to be the most intelligent being ever created, he thought, plopping down on the couch and burying his face in his hands. And I let my emotions take control of me. Why? What the hell has she done to me, to make me so emotional?

  Watcher huffed and looked up at the room, their living room, a minute part of this great station, but theirs. She had picked out the pillows that sat on all the chairs. The damned stampeding elephant symbol with the words Crimson Tide across the bottom, after something called the University of Alabama. The whole room was full of her touches. He could care less about decorating. Functional furniture would have served just as well. But it had made her happy, and that had made him happy. A woman who on her best day was not his match in any way.

  And she saved your sorry ass, thought the super being, seeing the image of her smiling face in his mind. She saved civilization. That’s what she did that your damned super ass couldn’t. Just that little thing.

  Watcher sat there for an hour, the time ticking off on his implant, thinking about the things they had been through. She loves me, he thought, shaking his head in wonder. She loves me despite my being the monster that parents tell their children about to make them be good. The thing that destroyed civilization. Whether they see my face or not, they are still talking about me. And despite that she rescued me from my captor, and made me a real person. And now I’ve lost her.

  The super being hadn’t noticed when he had started crying. But he noticed now that tears were dripping down his cheek. He, a man who had never cried, through the times of loneliness, the times of heartache. Through the times when he was scared and didn’t know what the hell was going on around him, through the blackouts which were the times Vengeance was operating. And I love her more than anything I have ever loved before. Even my own sorry ass. And what am I doing about it? Sitting here on this couch, feeling sorry for myself.

  Something touched his hand, and Watcher looked down at the small gray tabby cat that was snuggling against him. Bear. One of her favorites, he thought, stroking the soft form and feeling the rumbling purr. Hell, they’re all her favorites. She never met a cat she didn’t like. I’ve always liked them, from the time they were my only living companions. But she adores them. Watcher could feel the tears start up again, his feelings threatening to paralyze him once more.

  No, dammit, he thought, picking up the cat, then getting up from the couch. She’d tell me to get off my pity pot. He laughed at that thought, which always brought up a humorous image of sitting on a toilet.

  [Computer], he thought over his link. [Open a pinhole in the space around Topaz IV. I want to see what’s going on there.]

  [Opening pinhole] replied the computer. Moments later an image formed on the far wall as it turned into a viewer. A pinhole was the best he could manage
at this distance, without something like Pandora’s ship to use. And without contact he couldn’t use the graviton generators of Avenger to open a traversable wormhole, only the pinholes that allowed him to monitor the space around the Supersystem.

  “Son of bitches are still there,” he said as he watched the Nation ships moving toward the planet.

  [I have located her ship] said the computer. [On approach to the planet.]

  “Why?” said Watcher under his breath. “What is she thinking?”

  The view shifted, coming closer to Avenger, and Watcher cringed as he saw the damage the ship had taken.

  [The Nation ships see her and are opening fire] said the computer. [Ship is evading. Going into the atmosphere.]

  The ship moved around the planet, going out of sight for a moment until another pinhole opened to give a view from the other hemisphere. There were Nation ships here as well, a quintet in orbit. They opened fire on the Avenger, and the ship ducked deeper into the atmosphere, trying to get away. There was a particle beam strike on the dorsal section of the vessel, and Avenger flipped over and fell into the atmosphere, into the relative cover of a cloud bank. But the Nation ships would still be able to see her on radar, and particle beams ripped through the clouds seeking the target.

  And then the ship was climbing back above the clouds, accelerating at five hundred gravities and leaving a trail of fire behind her. The Nation ships kept firing, and were now scoring hit after hit, shredding the forward section of the vessel. Several beams punched through the hull at a location and angle that Watcher knew would intersect the bridge. And still Avenger flew, straight at one of the Nation ships.

  The explosion, what had to be a containment breach, caught Watcher by surprise, and he knew it had to be a shock to the enemy. One instant the Avenger was there, the next it was a bright flash. The nearest Nation ship took the brunt of the blast, heat and radiation and plasma flooding into it. The forward section of the vessel glowed, gas spurted from hull breaches, and the nose was pushed up and away by the blast.

  I’ve lost her, he thought, as the feeling of utter devastation swept over him. His body felt weak from all the swift emotional changes he had gone through. He shook with sorrow and anger, falling into the nearby couch, his hands going to his face.

  [Many objects left the spaceship while it was under the clouds] said the computer.

  [Show me] said Watcher as soon as what it had said penetrated his sorrow.

  The viewer on the wall shifted and showed a slow motion shot of the ship through a temporary break in the clouds. The shot only lasted an instant, but what looked like dozens of objects were falling from the ship. They were not clear. They could have been debris falling from the damaged vessel. But Watcher decided to go the way of hope. She got out, he thought. His next thought was about what he should do.

  [Are you receiving a signal from her tracker beacon?] Watcher asked.

  [No, but she was likely to have turned it off with enemies in the region.]

  Of course she would have, thought Watcher. She’s not an idiot, despite what I thought in my recent tantrum. They are more likely to pick her beacon up than I am, and she knows it.

  [Where is the nearest gate from the station to that region?] he asked the computer, knowing that anything he opened in space would be observed and targeted by the enemy. Also, it would take much too long to get a projector to that area.

  A hemisphere projection of the planet appeared, and with it two blinking dots. One he knew was the most likely location for Pandora Latham, based on where the ship released its objects. The other was a pyramid that contained a wormhole gate to the planet. Watcher looked at the dots and his heart fell again. They were separated by four thousand kilometers of wilderness. I haven’t even been off this station in thousands of years, and now I’m looking at traveling through thousands of kilometers of jungle, with hostiles everywhere.

  Watcher felt the paralysis coming over him again. Get off the damned pity pot, he thought, smacking a right fist into his left palm. You were a soldier, so start acting like one.

  [Here’s what we’re going to do] he sent to the computer, running down a plan in his head.

  * * *

  Pandora pounded on the button with her armored fist again and again, but nothing happened. She was holding onto a wall grip as the ship spun over, then upright again. Dammit. That’s the reason they have a damned button here in the first place. So’s I can open the damned thing if the auto system is down. She hit it again, and felt the metal and plastic crack with her blow. The hatch still didn’t open, and now she was sure the switch was broken as well.

  I’m sorry darling, she thought, bringing up the image of Watcher in her mind. He was a very striking man, muscular without being obscene about it, with exotic ears, eyes and that high domed forehead denoting extreme intelligence. I should have listened to you. But the fuckers needed a good ass kicking. And I was the only one here to do it.

  She checked her internal clock and was chilled by what it said. Time was ticking down, thirty seconds to detonation when containment failed. And it was only an estimate. It could go in ten seconds, or ten minutes later. She ran over a schematic of the ship in her head, seeing that there was a nearby hatch she might be able to use, if it was in working order. And if the estimate was off in the proper direction. With a decision made she started to leave the cargo compartment and go for the hatch.

  [Wait] came the voice of the ship’s computer over her link. [Just one second.]

  [Not sure if I have one], she sent back, a feeling of hope entering her now that the main system was back in contact. Then, with a grinding vibration, the cargo hatch began to retract. There was open sky out there, and then the surface of the planet came into view as the ship continued to spin, then stabilized out of it.

  [Out] called the computer. [And take care.]

  The first of the robots started the plunge to the surface, then more, as the hatch retracted beneath their feet.

  [You take care too] sent Pandi as she jumped from her perch into the open hatch. As soon as she was away from the ship the air current caught her and she was whipped away from the ship. Using her suit grabbers she reoriented so she could see the small vessel climbing into the sky, and soon lost it in the clouds she was falling through. You take care too, she thought with a snort. You’re going to your death, and there is no taking care. But what else was I supposed to say?

  Pandora lay on her back in the air, falling toward the ground, allowing the gravity of the planet to get her out of the sky. Her curiosity kept her looking up. Because of that she saw the bright flash through the clouds, and knew that Avenger was gone. You were a good ship. I’m sorry I used you so badly.

  Then there was no time for sentimentality over dead machines, and Pandora rolled over on the grabbers until she was facing the ground. She looked around and saw that most of the robots were with her. They had been programmed to follow her, to link up with her, and though she was not transmitting anything at this time, most had been able to lock on her visually and stay close. She thought for a second about having wormhole com with her bots in the future. Too late for it now, she thought, shaking her head. She had just never thought of having a hundred robots linked in that tight, didn’t see the need for it. Neither had her super-intelligent lover. And if he hadn’t, why should she feel bad that she didn’t?

  [What can you tell me about that jungle down there?] Pandora asked her suit computer as she fell, looking down into the orange and purple colored landscape.

  [The foliage is native to Beta Mauradis Four], said the suit comp in her mind. [The home world of the Maurids.]

  [It looks exotically beautiful], she sent back to the comp, trying to relax in her suit as she cleaved the air.

  [It is one of the ten deadliest jungles known], replied the comp. [The Maurids are a very deadly species of sophont, having evolved in such an environment.]

  [And what makes it so deadly?]

  [A lethal combination of poisonous p
lants and insects, carnivorous vegetation and animals, and of course the Maurids.]

  Pandi nodded her head as she thought about that. The Maurids were bad mothers, of that she had no doubt. She also didn’t doubt that she could take one in a fair fight even without her suit, while her armor gave her a great advantage over anything not possessing modern weapons. Like I would get into a fair fight, she thought with a laugh. Daddy may not have been a nice man, but he didn’t raise no fool.

  Tapping into the computer data bank she looked over what it had on the Maurid ecosystem, and she whistled as the facts integrated with her memory. Beta Mauradis Four had been in the evolution business for a billion years longer than Earth, or the great majority of other life bearing worlds. That’s longer than vertebrate life existed on Earth, she thought. Or infinitely longer than that six thousand year bullshit daddy used to preach. Of course the Maurids, the intelligent life form of that planet, didn’t evolve into their present state until about two hundred thousand years ago, making them a younger sophont than the human race. Good thing, or they might have discovered us, and that would not have been fun. She shook her head at the thought. How could it have been any worse than the damned aliens that did discover humanity?

  Pandora checked her altitude and saw that she still had six thousand meters to fall. She decided to start braking maneuvers at two thousand while she looked for a good clearing to set down in. That thought was still going through her mind as one of the nearby robots flared with reflected light, its right mid-limb came off and tumbled away, and Pandora Latham realized that she was again under attack.

  * * *

  “What in the hell was that?” asked Fleet Admiral Nagara Krishnamurta, looking up to the canopy overhead as the deep rumbling boom came through.

  “It’s a spaceship coming down into the atmosphere,” answered Lt. Commander Dasha Mandrake, walking beside the Admiral while she checked the feed from a satellite. The Kingdom had seeded the space around the planet with hundreds of thousands of microsats that could act as com relays and surveillance platforms. While one alone was not much, combined they were awesome, and there were too many for the Nation forces to track and destroy them all.