The Dark Path

by Walter H Hunt

  "Biggest of its kind, sir." He began to walk toward the personnel access. "Best-armed and more up-to-date than a lot of the bases in the inner sphere."

  "Indeed." Sergei looked all about him and saw naval personnel—human and zor both—moving to and fro, attending to their various duties. It all seemed remarkably efficient and thorough. "I daresay it would be hard to take the station by force."

  "Impossible." Noyes looked down at Sergei, his face set in a condescending smile. "Properly supported by mobile vessels, this station cannot be taken. Even," he added, almost as an afterthought, "if you could find an enemy to take it."

  Sergei let his chair come to a halt and returned Noyes' glance. "I would not be so sure, Commander. There was a time, before your grandfather was born, that we made a similar statement."

  "The situation is quite different now, sir."

  "Oh." Sergei looked away, and around him at the hangar deck. "Is it really."

  ***

  "When was this station built, Commander?" Sergei asked as he and the commodore followed Noyes from post to post on the bridge.

  Noyes turned, seeming somewhat surprised at the question. "2381, sir," he answered. "A few Standard years after Cicero Down base was built."

  "You maintain complete records, I would assume."

  "Of course." Noyes had stopped beside a computer station. He stood—almost striking a pose, one hand by his side, the other on the chair next to him. He looked from Sergei to Jackie, one eyebrow raised a microscopic amount. "Was there . . . something specific you were—"

  "Curiosity merely," Sergei said, motioning with one hand. "2381, you say . . . That would be just after the chartering of the Imperial Grand Survey, then. Do you have the data of the original probe reports?"

  "Naturally, sir." Still appearing a trifle surprised by the inquiry, he sat down and began to enter information. "There is quite a bit of material—planetary and solar data, gravometric analyses, Muir-limit statistics—"

  "I am well informed on the subject of planetary surveys, Commander," Sergei interrupted. "I performed nearly two hundred of them during my tour of duty."

  The words "tour of duty" rang hollowly through the bridge, already hushed while the inspection was taking place.

  "Indeed. Did you have a particular question?" Noyes asked quietly.

  "A conjecture merely." Sergei looked up at Jackie, who had remained completely silent during the entire exchange. "Commander," he continued, "as I am sure you are aware, the ultimate objective of this investigation into the disappearance of the two Exploration Service vessels must be the determination of a cause. I reason there is some difference in data between the time when the robot probes originally surveyed the world we quaintly call 'Sargasso' and the time the two ships visited.

  "I suspect that the later survey will show something significant: a large mass or perhaps a hidden base."

  "If the . . . Gyaryu'har pleases," Noyes replied, "the squadron detailed to investigate Sargasso will soon make all speculation on the subject a moot point. The admiral's investigation will likely explain the disappearance, will it not?"

  Jackie was taken somewhat aback by Noyes' comment, and hardly tried to conceal her anger. Why, you sanctimonious bastard, she thought.

  "The admiral has his methods, and I have mine," Sergei replied, his expression remaining impassive. "Suffer the whims of an old man."

  Noyes waited for a moment almost long enough to be insulting and then looked up at Jackie. She hoped that her stern expression offered sufficient guidance.

  "Display IGS data for Sargasso System," he said. A display appeared above the console, showing a 3-D representation of the system that moved in slow motion, showing the rotation of the planets around the primary.

  "The original survey of the Sargasso System was conducted in 2372," Noyes said, without looking up. "Eight planets, ranging from 0.4 AU to 29.8 AU. One nominally Terran habitable world at the fourth orbital; three inner planets; three gas giants; one outer world. No asteroid belts, little appreciable debris; Oort 0.7 Standard size, all suggesting a mature system and a highly stable primary. Strong hydrogen lines in the F6 sun. The survey shows gravometric analysis, plasma flow lines and electromagnetic data." He poked a finger at the data that hung in midair beside the system display.

  "Display Gustav Adolf II survey data for Sargasso," he said, and another 3-D display appeared beside the first one and moved to overlay it as Noyes gestured.

  Noyes' brow furrowed. "Pardon me," he said. "I seem to have retrieved the wrong image—"

  "No," Sergei said. He indicated the identifying icon in a lower corner, identical with the previous image. "No, Commander, this is the correct one. But, as you will see, the data are quite different."

  Noyes looked from the screen to Sergei and then to his own display. "Nine planets, two habitable worlds . . . an asteroid belt at 6.5 AU; a larger-than-normal Oort cloud . . ." He looked at Jackie. "Commodore, I—"

  "Belay it," she snapped. "Commander, conduct a complete review of the integrity of your survey data. On the double."

  "Aye-aye," he said, looking somewhat bewildered. He stood and strode quickly away toward the pilot's station.

  Jackie looked closely at the two overlaid images: the 2372 survey showing eight worlds and the Gustav's survey showing nine and an asteroid belt.

  "You expected this," she said quietly to Sergei.

  He smiled wanly. "Let me say . . . I am not surprised. Take a look at this." He produced a comp from a pocket and handed it to Jackie. A 3-D view of a solar system appeared above it.

  "This data agrees with the Gustav's survey! Where did you get—"

  "From Cicero Down's comp," he replied. "It was part of the official record of the Grand Survey."

  "What does this mean?"

  "Commodore." He lowered his voice almost to a whisper, "Your data at Cicero Down have been altered. It means that somewhere on the premises of this base is a spy . . . for the es-Ga'uYal."

  She looked around the bridge, but Sergei placed a thin, bony hand on her arm. "I would expect that the spy could disguise itself as a normal person. It could even make itself look like me. Or you."

  "Surely you don't suspect—"

  "I would imagine it was someone less obvious than you, Commodore. Also, I would know." He let go of her arm and teed his hand on the sword at his belt.

  "Will it tell you who—"

  "Part of my purpose for coming up here, Commodore. But I not know how long it will take me."

  "What do you need?"

  "Quiet. I do not think my presence has yet been noticed."

  Jackie nodded. "Commander," she said to Noyes, "The Gyaryu'har and I will be in our quarters."

  ***

  A holo of the planetary system hung in the air over the Singapore's ready-room conference table, with an ID block next each world and summary information at the base of the display. Admiral Tolliver sat at the far end of the table, scowling. "I don't know, Admiral."

  "That's not the answer I'm looking for, Captain Diaz." He turned to the holo. "This data does not agree with the 2372 Grand survey. There has to be a reason."

  "Sir, I am as disturbed about this as you. Despite the log of the Gustav Adolf, I expected to jump into the system listed in our survey database. Finding what we found is like jumping into a system without any probe data at all."

  "They used to do it all the time."

  "I acknowledge that, Admiral. But operating procedure requires—"

  "Yes, yes, I know." Tolliver put his hand up to stop Diaz from continuing. "Nonetheless, we are here—wherever here is."

  "We are at the coordinates we expected, sir."

  "Then the survey data is clearly in error . . . Have the Johore and Andaman reported in?"

  "They've gone into the inner system, Admiral. The current display"—Diaz pointed at the third and fourth worlds—"reflects the information they have gathered since being dispatched there."

  "Captain." Tolliver touched his comp. T
he system display shrank and another appeared beside it. "This is the data derived from the Imperial Grand Survey; it is what we expected to find when we came out of jump. By comparison, the other data"—he gestured toward the original system display, still incrementally updating—"matches the Gustav Adolf's report; it appears that we are where they were. But why are we not here?" He pointed to the alternate system. "That is what we are here to find out."

  "Admiral, with all due respect, by confirming the Gustav's finding we have accomplished what we are here to do. I'm not sure—"

  "I am sure. We will examine the habitable worlds and complete our report. Then we will decide where to go next."

  "Admiral, I—"

  "Captain Diaz, you may consider those instructions as an order. If you do not wish to carry them out, you will be so good as to send me someone who will."

  Diaz offered a stiff salute in response to the rebuke, turned and left the ready-room.

  ***

  The Cameroon and the Wei Hsing remained near the jump point while the Singapore, Tolliver's flagship, and its sister ship Maldive descended into the gravity-well to join the two ships already there. They took up orbit around the outer habitable world just as the Gustav had done weeks earlier; and as Tolliver watched from the engineering station, Captain Robert Diaz ordered a gig with four Sensitives and a Marine guard to the surface to conduct a survey. There was no direct evidence of sentient life, but the first few orbits had shown energy signatures in a range of low hills near the equator.

  It took twenty minutes for the small craft to descend through he atmosphere and land on the surface. As it descended, the bridge of the Singapore remained deadly quiet; Tolliver's stiffness and the Captain's taut anger hung in the air.

  "Singapore, this is Ajami. The survey team is inserted." Lieutenant Ken Ajami's image appeared above the engineering station, in front of Tolliver. Vid from the recording cameras sprang to life on holo monitors on the wall. The Sensitives moved out from the landing site, each with a pair of Marines; the cameras began to track across the countryside and showed local flora, along with indigenous insect and animal life. The view was completely normal on the face of it. The teams had the survey data gathered by a similar group from the Gustav Adolf II; all preliminary indications showed the same results the Gustav had found. The comm channel was full of chatter from the four survey parties as the data was transmitted to the Singapore's bridge.

  Abruptly two of the four camera transmissions cut off. Tolliver reached across to the console and touched the controls, then turned to Diaz. "Captain, reestablish contact with parties Bravo and Charlie."

  "Alford, Huerta. This is the Singapore. Report." Diaz leaned forward in the pilot's chair, turning to face comm station. "Lieutenant, do we have ID on the two teams' locations?"

  The comm officer's hands played across the comm console. "No, Skip," he said after a moment. "We've lost them."

  "Ajami, report," Diaz said. "Ken, we've lost two of your IDs. that's going on down there?"

  Another vid stopped transmitting. The primary camera, following the progress of the Alpha team—consisting of Ajami and two Marines—continued to track, showing a bucolic meadow scene, interrupted by a few low trees set against a clear sky.

  "Ken," Diaz said, "if you can hear me, acknowledge."

  The bridge had gone completely silent. There was no comm chatter at all, no response from the remaining team, and the screen continued to show the same peaceful scene.

  Diaz turned to face Tolliver.

  "Gig is lifting off, Cap'n," said Ensign Louise Kahala, the Singapore's helm officer. "It's accelerating toward orbit."

  "Get it on comm, now," Captain Diaz said angrily. "Singapore sends. Ajami, what the hell is going on?"

  The comm officer shook his head. "Gig is not responding, Skip."

  "Admiral?" Diaz said, turning to face him. His voice was angry; every captain feels personally responsible for his own people, and he hadn't favored the survey in the first place.

  Tolliver didn't answer. Behind him, the breeze shook the branches of the indigenous trees.

  ***

  "Captain, I am holding you personally responsible," Tolliver was saying. "I will have a complete report, if I must obtain it for myself firsthand."

  The lift door slid aside, and Lieutenant Ken Ajami, WS4—the highest Sensitive-only rank in the Imperial Navy—came onto the bridge, followed by his Sensitive colleagues Marie Alford, Terrence Huerta and Ivan Asaro. They appeared to be composed and relaxed, which seemed to infuriate Admiral Tolliver even further.

  Ajami offered a salute to Diaz, then walked to the gunnery station without a word. The other three remained near the lift doors. Tolliver crossed the bridge to stand before him.

  "What do you think you're doing, Mister?" the admiral snapped. "I don't recall ordering you back to the Singapore."

  "That hardly matters anymore, Admiral."

  "What? I'll have your bars and I'll see you in irons—"

  "No," the Sensitive answered. He held up a hand, then gestured past Tolliver to the bridge. "No, I don't think so."

  Tolliver turned to look where Ajami had pointed. His gaze went to Diaz, sitting in the pilot's chair, and then at each of the other stations on the bridge and the Marines at attention at their posts.

  No one was moving. They had frozen in position, staring straight ahead or down at their consoles; walking from one place to another; a hand extended toward a control.

  "What . . ."

  Then, just as suddenly, motion on the forward screen caught Tolliver's eye. What he saw defied description: The planet they orbited, half in shadow, began to change shape.

  It was a phenomenon he couldn't understand. It was as if it had extended two large limbs or pseudopods made of land and water and atmosphere; as he watched, it engulfed the Johore, a quarter-orbit ahead of the Singapore. His heart raced: he couldn't move, as fear rooted him to the spot.

  A moment later he realized that it was no illusion. The scene on the screen suddenly changed: They had been flung from orbit. The mass-radar confirmed it; alarms rang out across the bridge and across the ship as the sudden change in orbital components stressed its structural members.

  "Diaz!" Tolliver shouted. "What the hell—"

  Still no one had moved. Tolliver looked from the captain, who sat perfectly still, staring straight ahead, to the Sensitive, who stood with his hands on a guide rail, a sardonic smile on his face.

  "What have you done? What's going on?"

  "Watch," the Sensitive said, gesturing toward the pilot's board, where transponder codes were rapidly updating. The Johore was nowhere to be seen; the Singapore was moving rapidly on its as yet uncorrected course. The Andaman and Maldive, which had also been in orbit, were now flying almost parallel to each other. The mass-radar was recording a series of energy discharges.

  Tolliver went rapidly across the bridge to the comm station, where the officer sat rigidly, staring at nothing. He touched a control.

  "Wei Hsing," he said. "Cameroon. This is Tolliver. Report."

  "There'll be no need for that, either," Ajami's voice said, as the comm panel erupted in a shower of energy discharge, throwing the immobile comm officer and the admiral to the deck.

  It took a moment for Tolliver to get his feet under him, and as he moved to get up he reached for his sidearm. But before he could draw it, he glanced across at Ajami and saw—

  ***

  This is almost too simple, he heard in his head. He couldn't move or see; it seemed as if time had come to a halt and he was floating, immaterial and invisible.

  The meat-creatures are as pliable as we had been told, a second voice acknowledged.

  Did you doubt?

  Of course I did not.

  This task is not finished. Those few with k'th's's must yet be dealt with.

  A trivial matter. Let them destroy each other.

  The first voice seemed to be pondering this last comment At last it said, Splendid. See to it.
/>   ***

  The Andaman disappeared from the display and then the Maldive. The pilot's board showed expanding clouds of debris for several seconds before their density dropped below the sensitivity level.

  The Johore, Cameroon and Wei Hsing were nowhere to be seen. Tolliver looked frantically from the holo to the thing that stood in Ajami's place. It looked like a cloud of rainbow-colored gas with a silver sphere hovering in the middle of it.

  "You are powerless," the thing said. A tentacle of energy lashed out and struck him, driving him to his knees. "You will not even be able to speak of this. It would be a trivial matter to destroy you, but you may yet have use."

  He heard himself screaming, and didn't remember anything more.

  Chapter 4

  Hours later Jackie was summoned to the station's bridge. Moments after she arrived, Sergei's chair glided through the lift doors. They met at the pilot's board in the center of the bridge. All around, crew were at battle stations.

  "Report," she said to Noyes, who turned from examining the pilot's board full of transponder codes. The board was complex, like that aboard a carrier.

  "An unknown vessel inside the sixth orbital, ma'am. Just jumped in, traveling at just under one-fifth C. Spatial fluctuation indicates that it did not misjump. This was its destination."

  "Dispatch a fighter squadron to intercept. Ready a second," she added, looking sideways at Sergei, "and await orders to launch."

  "Aye-aye, ma'am," he replied, and did so. The transponder screen was suddenly full of blips: the "bogey," six intercept fighters, and now four starships closing toward the intruder.

  "Visual contact," said a tech somewhere nearby. A fighter pilot's-eye view of the approaching vessels appeared near the pilot's board. "Silhouette confirmed," said the same tech. "Bogey is—wait one—an Imperial vessel, Malaysia class. ID beacon not operative."

  Jackie looked suddenly at Sergei, who stared stonily at the transponder screen.

  "Vessel has taken heavy damage," said the tech. "Reporting . . . no defensive fields. Bogey has no pressure on the bridge. Fighter leader reports multiple hits on weapon ports and shuttle bays . . ."