Dangerous Evolution (3 page)

I lowered my pad and rubbed my eyes, watching as the residential dome
grew larger in the shuttle’s forward view screen. Even though the light filters
were active, making the dome’s shield opaque, I could still make out the faint shapes
of the large buildings inside. We’d left the
Babylon
floating at station
behind us, transferring to this smaller craft capable of landing inside the
structure.

A personal dome…incredible
. Entire planets pooled their
collective wealth to enclose inhospitable terrain and make it safe for human
habitation, but no single person in history had built a private dome like this—no
one, except for Val Evans. Then again, she did own this entire solar system, of
which this moon was only a tiny fraction.

There were six other planets that could be settled or mined—even
sold outright for a tremendous profit—but they remained as they had for
millions of years, untouched by human exploration or intervention. The only
people for light years in any direction lived in this dome.

I turned off the pad and folded it into quarters, forming a small,
thin square that fit into my holster—right next to the weapon that had saved my
life on numerous occasions. I’d always said that those two items were all I
ever needed in the field. The pad gave me unlimited access to information,
communications, and wealth; the TAC pistol provided the coercion necessary to
open any doors the pad couldn’t. I’d yet to find myself in a situation where
sufficient firepower or the right information couldn’t solve the problem.

“Breth Evans will be waiting for us in the hanger,” Stinson
offered. He was sitting across from me in a jump seat. “I let her know we were
on the way in.”

I looked down at the flyer pilot’s corpse, brought over from the
Babylon
.
It was lying on the floor in a black body bag with blue Sector markings.
Hopefully,
I thought,
we can get some justice for you as well as finding Miss Evans
.

“Can she explain any of this?” I asked.

“Not much I’m afraid, we’ve spoken at some length while arranging
for the security and retrieval crews. She seems just as puzzled as we are.”

We passed through the permeable part of the dome and into the
artificial atmosphere, and I felt the gravity increase. My ears popped as the
shuttle matched the dome’s internal pressure. Blue and white light streamed in through
the windows, replacing the grey and black that so dominated the environment
outside the dome. I looked out to see a fake sun emitting real light.

My mission brief explained that the dome’s exterior collected light
from the system’s star, and then re-processed it, projecting it throughout the
interior of the structure from an emitter mimicking Sol’s size, heat and
proximity to Earth. The system was so efficient, that it even gathered and
repurposed the light reflected off the gas giant.

At “night”, the dome became completely transparent, revealing the
stars and planets above as if the buildings were open to space. The transition
was timed to simulate Earth’s 24 hour rotational “day”; home away from home I
speculated. Except that Evans wasn’t even from Earth, but this far out from
humanity’s ancestral planet, so few were.

The shuttle touched down and the door slid open, a ramp extending out
from underneath the ship to provide a wide walkway. The security detail stood
aside, allowing Stinson and myself to exit first.

At the bottom of the ramp stood a tall, slender woman with long
red hair, hanging loosely around her shoulders. Despite the dome’s private sun,
her skin was pale, almost luminous really. Breth Evans I assumed; her beauty
almost
matched her sister’s.

It’s a testament to how striking a figure she was, that I was
halfway down the ramp before I noticed she had two companions. On either side
of her stood…it couldn’t be…
my god, they were Sentients
.

I came to a complete stop, my hand instinctively reaching for my
TAC pistol. I’d travelled the galaxy from one end to the other, for almost a
hundred and fifty years, and I’d never been this close to one. No one had and
lived to tell about it. Yet here were
two.

They were roughly humanoid in form, and well over two meters tall;
their jet-black skin peppered with silver flecks that sparkled in the abundant light.
Old rumors held that their skin absorbed light energy to power their mechanical
components, but like almost everything else we knew about them, it was pure
speculation.

They both had obvious mechanical components—their eyes in particular—but
it was impossible to know how much was man and how much was machine. No. Not
man, they were genderless from what we knew. They wore no clothing, and had no observable
genitalia.

Some scientists were certain that the Sentients were a silicon-based
life form, that their mechanical features were a process of natural evolution.
Others scoffed at this hypothesis, arguing that they were simply cyborgs who
mutilated themselves by adding electronic devices to their flesh.

Nodding in their direction, Stinson said under his breath, “
Those
weren’t here before.” He couldn’t hide the wonder in his voice.

I performed a quick tactical evaluation; Breth’s demeanor was
relaxed, she was smiling even—in the background, hangar workers went about
their normal business as if everything was just fine. But this whole situation
made no sense. My instincts were telling me it was safe—but to stay alert just
in case. I removed my hand from the holster and resumed walking to the bottom
of the ramp. Though not an easy feat, I ignored the Sentients and introduced
myself to Breth.

“Commander Benjamin Malik, Miss Evans. Special Inquisitor. I
believe you already know Captain Stinson.” They shared a look of recognition.

“I’m honored, Commander.” She turned to her left, gracefully
waving a hand toward the Sentient standing there. “This is Del Radis of the
Free Sentient Alliance,” she repeated the same practiced gesture on the other
side, “And this is Wos Rendel of the same.” I nodded at each in turn, but they
made no outward signs of acknowledgment. Stinson’s men came down the ramp
carrying the pilot’s body, lightly placing it on the hangar floor.

“Your sister’s pilot, I’m afraid.  I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Oh Bev,” she said, looking down at the body bag. “He has been in
our service for at least 50 years, Commander, like family really. We will bury
him here; add him to the dome’s ecology. Bev would have liked that, I think.”

Gratefully, Stinson broke the growing silence. “Pardon me, Miss
Evans; I’d like to send this detachment to secure the hanger where your
sister’s ship is being delivered.”

“Of course, Captain. Anything you require.” She beckoned to one of
the dome’s personnel and he rushed over to her side. “Show them the way,” she
directed.

“Yes, Miss Evans,” he replied, then began walking out of the
hangar.    

Stinson waved the security team off, reflexively returning their
salutes as they departed. The Sentients abruptly turned and followed them out.

“They wish to observe your investigation, Commander. They were
working with my sister on a matter of great importance to the Alliance. As you
can see, they are very distraught be her disappearance.”

“To be frank, Miss Evans, I can’t tell what they think or feel,” I
admitted.

She looked at me curiously for a moment, then her face shifted in
understanding. “Forgive me, Commander, their expressions are quite subtle. I’ve
gotten used to their presence around here lately and I think I’m actually beginning
to take them for granted. I remember what it was like when I first met them, so
I do understand your confusion.”

So the Sentients had been here awhile? Interesting.

“There are probably less than a hundred humans that have
ever
interacted with them, Miss Evans, and most of those died.”

She laughed. “I admit that our history with them hasn’t been a stellar
one. I would be happy to explain everything I know about them over dinner…if
your schedule allows?” Her eyebrows rose in anticipation of an answer.

“I’d be honored,” I said. “I have a few things to ask you about your
sister’s disappearance anyway, and scheduling it over dinner would kill two
birds with one stone. First, however, we need to examine her ship.”

“Of course.” She held out her open hand, palm forward, and pressed
it into mine.

“Until then,” I said, and she turned to walk away.

Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled, “You can reach me
using any console in the dome.”

“Thank you. I will.”

Once she was out of earshot, Stinson looked at me as if seeing me
for the first time. “I think she likes you,
Ben
.”

“
I
think she probably has access to a lot of useful
information.”

“She has everything now,” Stinson replied. “With her sister gone,
it is
her
moon.”

“Hmmmm,” I agreed. “There is that.”

She stood to inherit everything if Val never returned, and even
though Breth didn’t seem the type to organize a kidnapping, it was far too
early to discount anyone’s involvement in her sister’s disappearance.

Two workmen waiting to dispose of Bev’s body read Breth’s
departure as a signal to put the corpse on a floatpad and take it away. I took
a final look at the black bag as they hefted it up, and something in my gut—an
intuition forged from years of experience—told me that this wouldn’t be the last
dead body we saw before this case was resolved.

*****

Val’s ship seemed much larger upright and perched on its landing
gear, but it was still incredibly small for a starship. Most Transit-capable
craft were large commercial carriers or passenger liners; something this size
was a rarity outside the military. The fact that it was the only ship in the
large hangar, placed right in the middle of the open area, only added to the
perception.

According to the preliminary information—relayed to me when I was assigned
the case—Evans was on a personal trip to undisclosed locations. When she returned,
the system’s automated monitoring station recorded her ship dropping out of
Transit near the planet, then followed her unimpeded progress to the moon.

Her pilot had contacted the dome and given them an ETA, but when
they hadn’t arrived, and didn’t respond to any attempts at communication, Breth
sent people out to look for the ship. What they found prompted an urgent call
to Sector Security, and my hasty journey to the remote moon.

The ship was now surrounded by Stinson’s security force—the
engineers standing outside the perimeter waiting to begin dissecting the ship. The
Sentients stood silently on either side of the craft, positioning themselves so
they could watch everything.

“Go ahead and get started,” I said to the small assembly. “If you
find anything, anything at all, call me over immediately.”

They moved their tools into position, some hand-held, others on
floatpads, and started removing the ship’s skin panels, exposing the systems
underneath. I turned my attention to Stinson. “What do we know about this boat,
Jeff?”

“Quite a bit actually. It’s only three years old, top of the line of
course, and has been very well maintained. In fact, it just went through its
annual recertification at Harrakan Station.”

He pulled out his pad and typed in a few commands. “I’ve requested
the service records, but they haven’t come in yet.”

“Shifty place that,” I said. “I’m surprised she didn’t go to
Elisial for the annual; much better service, and fewer undesirable elements.”

“I agree. According to her sister, she was there on other business,
and took advantage of the opportunity to have the maintenance done as well.”

Stinson anticipated my next question. “And no, she doesn’t know
what Val was doing there. I already asked.”

I gazed over at the Sentients—intently watching the engineering
crew—their heads moving slowly side to side as they scanned the activity. “That
makes sense I suppose.” I covertly pointed my elbow at one the Sentients, “What
do you know about
them
?”

“As much as anyone else I guess. An extremely ethnocentric, biomechanical
race, whose intense xenophobia usually,
thankfully
, keeps them behind
The Verge. Physically strong and rather emotionless—if history is any guide. Their
hatred of humanity made even more dangerous by their advanced military and
technological capabilities.”

He looked over at the Sentients and then back at me. “Bad news
would be an understatement.”

“I couldn’t agree more. My deep shit detector started going off as
soon as I saw them. But what the hell are they doing on this side of The Verge?
And if they
are
responsible for all of this, why are they still here?”

He shrugged, evidently as baffled as I was.

The Verge.
It wasn’t a natural phenomenon
, I reminded
myself,
it was a point in space where humans crossing it were blown into
atoms, or worse.

The first humans to encounter the Sentients were deep space
explorers, using Masai class fast Transit vehicles to chart the stars. I could
only imagine their excitement when they discovered the unusual, and definitely
non-human ship, orbiting a planet in the Meras System.