To Well And Back (The Deep Dark Well)

by Doug Dandridge

  Dammit, thought Watcher, slamming a hard gauntleted hand down on his armored thigh. The Nation Marines had been ready for that maneuver, and had caught them in a booby trap, an explosive device that had taken them out without the possibility of a reply. The robots were irreplaceable at this time, but were still only machines. The Suryans were not replaceable at any time. And Watcher held back the tears that wanted to follow the thought that his commands had caused their deaths. He pushed that thought away. He didn’t have time for it, and mourning could come later.

  He aimed his particle beam cannon and fired away, a series of one second shots that eroded the energy of the field and struck a Nation Marine in the faceplate as he looked over the physical barricade to fire. The man fell back with a smoking hole burned through his helmet, and Watcher allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. One more down, the rest to go, he thought, pulling his armored body around the corner and resting for a moment, before planning his next move.

  * * *

  “That should do it,” said Commander Hanson, pushing the commit button. “The signal should now be going to the central processor.”

  “About time,” growled Colonel Johanson, still glaring at the console as if it contained the offending AI. “Computer. This is Colonel Wilhelm Johanson of the Nation of Humanity Marines. Do you acknowledge the reception of the code transmission from Pandora Latham?”

  “I acknowledge the transmission of the code from Pandora Latham,” said the computer in its calm voice. “What can I do for you, Colonel Johanson?”

  “You can turn over control of this station to myself, in my capacity of an officer of the Nation of Humanity Marines,” said the Colonel.

  “I am afraid I cannot do that, Colonel Johanson,” said the computer in a voice tone that almost sounded like a smirk.

  “What do you mean, cannot do that?” growled the Colonel, his hand falling to his sidearm. “Do you acknowledge that the code was correct, and that it was sent by Pandora Latham?”

  “I acknowledge both of those as factual statements,” said the computer.

  “And protocol is to turn the station command to the person in the control center when you receive such a code transmission?”

  “That is also correct, Colonel Johanson.”

  “Then what’s the fucking problem?” said the Colonel, slapping his pistol butt in frustration.

  “Pandora Latham was under duress when she transmitted that code,” said the computer. “And being under duress, she is determined to not be acting of her own free will. Therefore, the code transmission is not accepted as an order from Pandora Latham.”

  “What the fuck,” yelled the Colonel. “I’ll take you apart, you damned machine.”

  “This control room is vital to the functioning of the station,” said the computer, its voice going flat. “You are warned not to attempt to destroy this control room, as I will be forced to defend myself.”

  “Calm down a minute, Colonel,” said the Commander, putting a hand on the senior officer’s right arm. “Computer, how would we convince you that Pandora Latham was in possession of all her faculties, and willingly transmitted this code?”

  “That could be accomplished by bringing Pandora Latham to the station, and allowing me to communicate with her,” said the computer in a tone that let them know it didn’t believe that would be happening.

  “No other way?” asked the Commander.

  “No, Commander Hanson,” said the computer. “No other way.”

  “Then I’ll reduce you to scrap,” yelled the Colonel, jerking his laser pistol from its holster. “In the name of the one true God, I will destroy this place.”

  “That is inadvisable, Colonel Johanson,” said the computer, its voice again flat. “This control room is a vital installation on this station, and I am authorized to defend it with deadly force.”

  “Are there any weapons in here that the computer might be able to use against us?” asked the Colonel, looking over at the Commander.

  “Not that I know of,” said the Commander, shrugging his shoulders. “But we really don’t know its capabilities. I would advise…”

  “That’s all I want to hear,” said the Colonel, raising his pistol and pointing it at the console. He fired a blast from the weapon, burning a hole through the metal casing with a shower of sparks. “Everyone,” yelled the officer to the other thirty Marines and spacemen who were in the room. They were already looking at him intently as he destroyed the control console he stood next to. “Fire up this place. I don’t want there to be a working circuit when we are done.”

  The other men yelled and cheered, and took aim with their weapons at other control stations and holo screen projectors. Within seconds everyone was blasting away at some of the hardware in the large room.

  “Initiating defense procedures,” said the computer over the speaker.

  “You’re so full of shit, computer,” yelled the Colonel, laughing. “And I’m going to send you to Hell, if I have to destroy half this station to do so.”

  Commander Hanson stared at the Colonel as if the man had gone mad, which it seemed he had. There’s no way we could destroy even a thousandth of a percent of this station, even with the fleet. So what the Hell is he talking about?

  And then it happened. There was a ripple in the air over the control console. The air rippled again, and then a small hole appeared that expanded quickly. And with the hole came a suction that pulled at the very molecules of the Commander. He knew what was happening at that moment. The computer had opened a wormhole gate, which led to the oblivion on the other side of the event horizon of the black hole.

  This is madness, thought the Commander, looking for a way out. His religion and science did not know what happened to a human who was crushed out of existence by a black hole. Would the soul even survive? Hanson tried to turn and run, but his muscles could not counteract the pull that lifted him from the floor and moved him toward that hole in space and time.

  The tidal forces pulled at his body as he approached the wormhole, the uneven stresses pulling his head, which was facing the hole, harder than his feet, which were facing away. Spaghettification was the last word to enter his mind. Mercifully, he didn’t have more than a fraction of a second to feel the agony that funny sounding word was associated with. He disappeared into the hole to reappear at the other end of the passage through space-time, beneath the event horizon of the black hole. By then he was dead, and moments later he was snuffed out of existence, as the matter which made up his body was crushed to a mathematical point and pulled into the mass of the black hole.

  The end of the wormhole moved like the questing head of a snake, sucking each Nation Marine or Spaceman into its hungry maw in sequence. Some were paralyzed with fear and surprise. Some tried to escape from the room. It made no difference, as all were sent into the black hole by the wormhole mouth that was a directed weapon. In moments there was no one left in the room. There was some superficial damage to the machinery, but it was made of very strong materials, and had been able to resist the pull that unanchored men could not. As soon as the wormhole winked out of existence the station computer started the repair procedures that would set the control room back to rights.

  Minutes later someone got up the courage to see what had happened in the room. And then the rumors started to fly, and the men of the expedition were not so willing to poke their noses into places they didn’t know.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Do not trust the cheering, for those persons would shout as much if you or I were going to be hanged. Oliver Cromwell

  Pandora Latham was not afraid of tight spaces. No one could work in space who was a claustrophobe. That said, she was not a great fan of them either. The warhead transfer tube was large enough to move the meter wide warheads that consisting of a weapon and sensory suite, from the front and rear magazines of the ship. It was large enough for her three quarters of a meter wide suit, even giving her some room to move around, as long as she remained in a hor
izontal position. Still, she envisioned one of those warheads coming from either direction and crushing her in its passage. Just have to hope they don’t get into a space battle while I’m in here, she thought with a grimace.

  She floated in the center of the tube on her grabbers, her suit set to keep her in the exact center so she didn’t scrape along any of its surfaces. She schematic of the ship was in her head, the blinking dot of her suit centered in it. There were still a hundred meters to go to get to where she needed to be, and she thought she could be there in the next thirty seconds. At least that was the plan, until someone else’s plans took precedence.

  The side of the tube facing the outer skin of the ship burst in without warning. Fragments of metal and composites bounced from the inner surface of the tube and careened on in both directions, a few bouncing from her suit. The feed tube shuddered from the vibrations picked up from the mass of the ship, and continued to shake for ten seconds or so. Something heavy must have hit the ship, she thought, wondering what. Then the tube shook again, this time from a heavy explosion located some distance away.

  Well, I ain’t getting through this way, thought Pandora, looking at the hull metal that was curled in from the new opening. So what do I do now?

  “You there, lover?” she asked on the com, not knowing what she would do if he didn’t answer, and fearing the worst.

  “I am still here, Pandora,” answered Watcher in the flat voice that let her know he was in combat mode. “I see that they almost got you as well with the lasers and particle beams.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “They were sweeping my robots off the hull with the weapons from the other ships,” said Watcher. “Apparently, they hit the hull of the Orca with more than they had planned.”

  Pandi found him on her locator and tagged his position, then looked at the schematics to try and find a path to him. Watcher’s system filled hers in, and she cursed as she saw the blocking forces that the enemy had between her and her mate.

  “They have my forces pinned down,” said Watcher, who Pandi’s system knew was looking at the same schematic. “They are behind strong electromagnetic fields and armored barricades, and I am not really sure how we are going to get past them.”

  “Can’t you get your bots to blast them out with missiles?” asked Pandora, realizing as the words left her mouth that of course Watcher would have already considered that.

  “I don’t have many missiles left with the remainder of my bots,” said the superman, aggravation creeping into his voice. “And the enemy has layered positions. I might be able to blast through a couple of them, but would still run into a roadblock that would stop us dead in our tracks.”

  “Um hmm,” said Pandi, looking at the schematic. “So I got an idea, seeing that I’m in the position that I am.” She filled Watcher in on the plan, and he sent back an affirmative.

  “Just be careful, Pandora,” said Watcher, concern in his voice. “I did not come here to rescue you just to see you get killed. I wish you would consider getting off the ship while you may.”

  “And I’m not leaving without you, you big lug,” she said, laughter in her voice. “Either we both get off of this here ship, or neither of us does. Is that understood?”

  “Yes ma’am,” said Watcher, a laugh in his voice. “You would have made a formidable officer.”

  “I prefer to work for a living,” she retorted, backing up from her position and looking for the nearest maintenance hatch. “You just hold tight and wait for my signal, and we’ll all get out of here, the Suryans included.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” repeated Watcher with another laugh. “I’ll be waiting. Just don’t get that pretty head blown off.”

  “I wouldn’t dare,” said Pandi, working the controls to the access hatch. “I got plans for this head. Plans I think you are gonna to like.”

  Pandora opened the hatch, then shot the last of her microbots out to scout the room beyond. Breathing a sigh of relief she joined the tiny robot in the room and started on her way, using the small machine as her scout.

  * * *

  “We have them boxed in, sir,” said the Security Chief over the com.

  “And you are sure of that because?” asked the Admiral, not really willing to trust the officer who had made so many mistakes in the past twelve hours. Though, to give him credit, thought the Admiral, remembering the abilities of the people they were matched up against, I’m not sure anyone else could have done much better. Myself included.

  “We have three layers of troops covering all the exits and any possible breakout points,” said the man, pride in his voice. “And we have electromagnetic screens up in front of all of the strong points. Ship mounted generators we took from storage, and I don’t think he is going to just blast through them with what he has.”

  “What about if he tries to come through the walls?”

  “Most of the walls lead to other rooms, and not corridors,” said the Security Chief with pride. “Any walls he could come through are hooked up to superconducting heat sinks and more electromag fields. I don’t think he’s going to come through, and if he does, we will get an alert and have a response team there before he even realizes how hopeless it is.”

  “I am impressed, Lt. Commander,” said the Admiral, a smile on his face for the first time all day, looking over the dispositions of troops and equipment on a splitter screen. “I agree. I don’t see how they could get through there without antimatter, or a big damned bomb. Keep me apprised when you come up with a plan for rooting them out.”

  “Rooting them out?” asked the man, fear and confusion mingling in his voice. “I thought we could just keep them trapped in that section until they decide to surrender.”

  “And have them maintain control of a twentieth of my ship,” said the Admiral in an angry voice. “I think not. I want a plan of attack that will take them out, and I want it within the next twenty minutes. And if not I will have you lead the attack that I devise, from the front.”

  “Yes sir,” stammered the officer back, and Gerasi felt a cold smile curl his lips as he listened to the near panic in the man. “Right away, sir.” And then the com link was dead, leaving Gerasi to lean back, to savor the moment he had caused such panic in an officer who had done nothing all day but make the moments miserable for his supreme commander.

  “We’re getting a call from the pyramid about something that happened on the Donut,” called out the Com Officer, a stricken look on his face.

  “What the hell now?” cried the Admiral. “What the hell could Johanson have stuck it in now?” The Admiral looked over at the Com Officer and nodded his head. “What’s going on down there?”

  “They’re gone, sir,” came the panicky voice at the other end.

  “Who’s gone, son?” asked the Admiral, trying to project calm he didn’t quite feel to settle the man down.

  “The Colonel, the Commander, everyone in the control room is just gone,” said the voice of the man, whom the com identified as Lt. Colonel Matthes. “And all their gear.”

  “Did anyone see it happen?” asked the Admiral, wishing he had an eyewitness to talk to, and not the man in charge of the defense of the pyramid.

  “Everyone who was in a position to see anything is gone,” repeated the Lt. Colonel. “A couple of men went into the room when the shouting started, but the doors closed hard behind them, and they’re also gone.”

  “And all the equipment is gone too?” asked the Admiral, confused as well.

  “All except for the plugs of some of the computer equipment they had jacked into the native consoles. Besides them, everything is gone. And the room is in perfect order, before you ask.”

  “That doesn’t make a lick of sense,” said the Admiral, furrowing his brow. Even if something used a particle beam or laser there would be residue, a lot of it. Negative matter? A wormhole? But how would a wormhole suck everything in like that, like some kind of vacuum cleaner that only attracted our people and things. It just doesn�
�t make sense.

  “What about these yells?” he asked the officer, trying to stay logical. “What did they say?”

  “Mostly prayers,” said the Colonel. “Calling for help, or asking God to save them. And that damned sound in the background, like the roaring of air.”

  The roaring of air,” thought the Admiral, his mind making a connection he didn’t like. The black hole. Did the station computer make a wormhole connection to the black hole? But it isn’t allowed to take life without sentient control, is it? And what could they have done to have provoked it so?

  “Colonel,” said the Admiral in a slow clear voice. “Transmit these instructions to the ranking officer on the Donut. He is to continue his exploration of the structure, but to proceed under extreme caution. And to stay out of that control room, no matter what. We will send some more naval techs to help him out. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” said the officer on the other end of the link.

  What else could go wrong? he thought. Minutes later he wished he hadn’t asked that question, as he found out what else could go wrong.

  * * *

  Watcher didn’t have any antimatter over and above the minute amount needed to power his own suit as a backup to its crystalline matrix batteries. He wished he had brought some atomic or quarkium weapons with him, and made a note to have at least a couple mid yield bombs in his possession next time, if there was one. One item he did have was negative matter. His five remaining robots all had a couple hundred grams of the material in magnetic bottles, and he had salvaged over a kilogram of material from the six inoperative robots he had been able to reach. He thought that it would be enough. He hoped it would, or he was in dire straits. So he waited in the large room that fronted on a corridor it didn’t open up into, with his robots and forty of the Suryans, while the rest of the subjects of that kingdom kept guard at the hotspots the Nation folks had blocked.