Hellworld (Deathstalker Prelude) (10 page)

He retracted the sensor spikes, patched into the pinnace’s computers, and had them run a systems check on his adjustments. A rush of brief sensations flowed through him, like a series of tiny sparks glowing and dying, come and gone too quickly for him to decide whether they were pleasant or not. The computers were sparking each augmentation in turn into life, just long enough for it to be checked, and then shutting it down again once it had tested out satisfactorily. The whole thing was over in a matter of seconds, and Williams smiled thinly as the computers assured him all his systems were working normally. He was sure he would have been able to tell on his own if anything was wrong, but it was as well to check while he had the chance.

He cut off the computers, and checked the readings on his implanted energy crystals. He allowed himself a small sigh of relief when they all showed a good 98 percent charge. Providing he was careful, they should last him till he could acquire some more. He tried to think what it had been like, being merely human, with no augmentations at all, and was faintly disturbed to find he couldn’t remember. He frowned. It hadn’t been that long ago. Perhaps it was just that he didn’t want to remember….

He brushed the thought briskly aside, and lay back on his bedroll. He was tired, and he’d done all the chores he intended to. If there were other things that needed doing around the camp, let the others do it. He was a scientist, not a servant. He smiled faintly, savouring the word
scientist.
He’d been the best in his field before his fall; everybody said so. Even the ones who hated him, and there were a lot of those. The Wampyr would have made him rich and famous throughout the Empire if lesser men, jealous of his success, hadn’t whispered poison in the Empress’s ear….

Williams scowled, and then quickly composed his features in case the others were watching. One day, the Empress herself would pay for what she’d done to him. All of those who’d betrayed him would pay, and pay in blood….

His hands had closed into fists, and he forced them to open again. As far as the Captain and the Investigator were concerned, he was a quiet, harmless doctor, and he wanted them to go on thinking that. There would be time for him to prove them wrong, later. There would be time for a lot of things, once the colonists finally arrived. It shouldn’t be too difficult for him to bribe the supply ships to bring him the kind of high tech he needed. And with so many warm bodies available for him to experiment on, in the guise of the kindly colony doctor, who knew what triumphs he might achieve … ?

Captain Hunter looked distrustfully at Williams. The man was smiling again. He shook his head, and looked away. No doubt he’d find out eventually what was so damned amusing. He laid out his bedroll as far away from the doctor’s as practical, and lay down on it. It felt great just to be off his aching feet at last. He stared up at the darkening night sky. The stars were coming out in ones and twos. One particularly bright light was probably one of the small moons. He started to check with the pinnace’s computers, and then stopped himself. It wasn’t important enough to waste valuable energy over. Hunter stretched slowly. His body was finally beginning to relax after the strain of the long walk. The ground was hard and unyielding, but he’d slept on worse in his time. He didn’t expect to have any trouble about getting to sleep. Most of his body was halfway there already, and the screen and the mines would sound an alarm long before anything got close enough to the camp to be a problem.

He lay quietly, pushing back the drowsiness a little so that he could savour it. All in all, it had been an interesting first day. First the forest, then the water hole, and now the statues. Never a dull moment on Wolf IV. He smiled slightly, and rubbed gently at his bruised ribs.

He hadn’t come out of it too badly, all told. He sighed, and stretched comfortably. Looking back, he was puzzled at why he’d been so scared of sleeping out in the open. Now that he was here, it wasn’t that bad after all. Too much imagination, that was his trouble. He thought again about the huge standing stones looming over him, and frowned. Like most people, he’d had few actual contacts with aliens in his career, but still he couldn’t help feeling there was something …
unnatural
about the creatures the stones depicted. They disturbed him on some very deep, very basic level. Perhaps it was the combination of features and shapes that ought not to occur together on one creature. Perhaps it was simply the overpowering size. But either way, Hunter decided that when it came time to enter the alien city the next day, he’d do it with his gun in his hand.

A yawn took him by surprise, and he closed his eyes the better to enjoy it. He quickly opened them again as he realised he’d forgotten all about the esper’s group. It was well past the time he’d decided to check up on them. He activated his comm implant, and a faint hiss of static filled his ears.

“Esper DeChance, this is the Captain. Do you hear me?”

“Aye, Captain.” The esper’s voice was calm and clear. “We’ve located a sheltered area, and are settling down for the night.”

“Same here. It’s rather late in the evening, esper. I’d expected to hear from you earlier.”

“Sorry, Captain, I just didn’t have anything to report. Have you encountered any problems?”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle. But if you come across any water holes, stay well clear of them. They’re inhabited. Get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll contact you again in the morning.”

“Aye, Captain. Good night.”

“And DeChance … don’t be afraid to call for help if you need it. I’d rather answer a false alarm than find I’d got there too late.”

“Understood, Captain. Good night.”

“Good night, esper. Pleasant dreams.”

He shut off his comm unit, and tiredness rolled over him in a soft grey wave. He could see Krystel sitting with her back to one of the statues, staring out over the plain. He frowned slightly. He hadn’t told her to stand guard…. Still, she was an Investigator, and no doubt knew her job. If she wanted to stand watch, that was up to her. Personally, he put his faith in the screen and the mines. Hunter closed his eyes, and let the day drift away.

Night sank slowly over the plain, the darkness deep and concealing, the only light the soft golden glow from the field lantern. Thin curling mists rose up around the camp, pressing close against the force screen with sullen perseverance.

Krystel sat at the base of one of the statues, at the edge of the lantern’s light. The end of her cigar glowed a dull red in the gloom. She couldn’t sleep, force screen or no force screen. She didn’t need much sleep anyway. She was an Investigator. This wasn’t the first time she’d sat guard on an alien world, but it always felt like the first. On a new world, you could never be sure what you could count on, and what would let you down. What was safe, and what was just waiting for a chance to jump you. On an unknown world, anything could turn dangerous without warning. In the end it was safest to distrust everyone and everything, and be prepared to fight for your life at a moment’s notice. Not very good for the nerves, but then Investigators weren’t the nervous kind.

She tensed as something stirred close at hand, and then relaxed as Captain Hunter sat down beside her.

“So, you couldn’t sleep either, Investigator.”

“I don’t mind sitting guard, Captain. I’m used to it.”

“What do you think of our new world?”

“I’ve seen worse.”

Hunter looked at her thoughtfully. “Krystel, what was it like on Grendel?”

The Investigator took her cigar out of her mouth and blew a perfect smoke ring. She watched the smoke gradually dissipate into the air. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm and even, and only a little bitter.

“It was my first major assignment. I did a good job on Loki, and my reward was a posting to the archeological digs on Grendel. It wasn’t called Grendel then, of course. We didn’t know what was waiting for us.

“It should have been a simple, straightforward job, examining some ancient ruins and a few scraps of alien machinery discovered by the first wave of colonists. I should have known it was going to turn bad, the moment I set eyes on the city. The buildings on the surface were just gutted husks, but as we dug down, deeper and deeper, we came across structures so well preserved that they might have been abandoned only the day before. After a while we stopped digging; we couldn’t stand the sight of what we’d found.

“The city spread out for miles beneath the surface, complete and intact. It was a nightmare of steel and flesh; a combination of breathing metal and silver-wired meat. There were rounded cylinders like gleaming, oily intestines, and pumps that beat like hearts. There were creatures that had become part of functioning machines, and complex devices with eyes and entrails. We found thinking machines that looked as though they’d been grown as much as built. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen such things. The crashed alien ship on Unseeli had been … similar, but the city was worse. Much worse. Whoever or whatever built and then abandoned the city wasn’t sane, in any way that we might understand the word.

“Under the city we found the vaults. They were huge, monumental; as clean and shining as though they’d been built yesterday. They were locked tight, with no sign to show what they held. We all had different theories as to what the vaults contained, but we all wanted to open them. We’d never seen anything like the city, and we had to know more.

“Looking back, I think we were all a little crazy by then. We’d spent too long down in the city, away from the sane everyday world above. I was in charge, so the final decision was mine. I was the Investigator, trained in the arts of understanding and destroying alien cultures. The city was vile, but so far we hadn’t come across anything actually threatening. And after all, Empire troops were only a distress-call away. Despite everything, I was still cautious—we all were—but none of us really believed there was anything in the vaults that could possibly prove a threat to the might of the Empire.

“So we blasted open the vaults, and the Sleepers awoke.

“We lost twenty men in the first few minutes. Our weapons were all but useless against the devils we’d released. I was buried under rubble, and left for dead. You should have seen them, Captain—living metallic creatures that had been genetically designed with only one purpose in mind: to kill. Nightmares in flesh and blood and spiked silicon armour. They were huge and awful, but they moved so fast that half the time we could only see them as a blur. Their claws ripped through stone and metal as though it was paper. Their grinning mouths had gleaming steel teeth. They moved through the city and up out into the archeological digs, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them.

“I finally dug my way out of the rubble, and followed the trail they’d left. There was blood everywhere, and bodies, and bits of bodies. All of it human. Up on the surface, the camp had been wrecked. No one was left alive. I hid in the ruins for three and a half days. It seemed like years. Finally I found a working comm unit in the wreckage of a shattered pinnace and contacted the ship in orbit. They came down and got me off.”

Krystel raised her hand to her cigar, and then stopped and held her hand up before her. It was shaking slightly. She stared at it until it stopped.

“The colonists were all dead. Wiped out, to the last man, woman, and child. The Empire sent the best it had against the aliens. Seasoned attack troops, battle espers, even one company of adjusted men. None of them lasted long. Finally, the Fleet moved in and scorched the entire surface of the planet from orbit. Grendel is under quarantine now, guarded by half a dozen Imperial starcruisers. Just in case there are more sealed vaults and more Sleepers, hidden deep beneath the surface.

“And that’s why I’m here with you, Captain. Because I missed the warning signs and let the creatures loose. And because I hadn’t the sense to get myself honourably killed on Grendel. Maybe I’ll do better this time.”

They sat in silence a while, staring out at the darkness and the thickening mists beyond the force screen. Krystel turned and looked at Hunter for the first time. “So tell me, Captain, what was it like, out in the Rim worlds?”

Hunter tried to answer her, and his throat closed up on him. He struggled to get the words out anyway. She’d told him her story as honestly as she could, and he was damned if he’d do less for her.

“It’s dark out there, on the Rim. The stars are scattered thinly across the gulf, and habitable planets are few and far between. Beyond the edge of our galaxy lies the endless night, a darkness so deep no ship has ever crossed it and returned. But the Rim planets are still part of the Empire, and have to be patrolled.

“Time seems to move differently, out there. It drags on slowly, each day like the day before, until you can’t tell one day from another. The endless dark preys on your nerves, like an itch you can’t scratch. You begin to feel as if you’ve always been out on the Rim, and always will. You can’t ever relax. Ships disappear on the Rim, and no one knows why. You start to look forward to trouble breaking out, because then at least there’ll be some action; something to do, something to strike back at.

“I was a good soldier. I carried out my orders, defended the Empire from her enemies, and never once questioned a command. Until they made me a Captain. You see, then I had to give the orders, and more and more I found the reasons behind those orders just weren’t good enough. Sometimes they didn’t even make sense. But I gave the orders, and saw them followed through, because my superiors told me to. I was a good soldier. But during the endless watches, spent staring out into the starless gulf, I began to wonder if their reasons were any better than mine, if their orders were any more sensible than mine, or if we were all just stumbling blindly in the dark.

“Giving orders began to grow more difficult. Making decisions, any decisions, took more and more of an effort. I didn’t trust my superiors anymore, or the Empire, and certainly not myself. I lost all sense of security, of stability. I couldn’t depend on anything anymore. Just getting through the day got harder all the time. Even small, simple decisions had to be wrestled over until I nearly drove myself crazy. I started having to check things over and over, to make sure I’d done them, even though I knew I had. Sometimes I gave the same order two or three times, and checked up on my crew to be sure it had been carried out.