Hellworld (Deathstalker Prelude) (13 page)

But she had to locate the Captain. She had to know what was happening to the other team. And most of all she had to face her fear, or she’d never be free of it. She could do it. She was an Empire-trained telepath, and she could face anything. She closed her eyes, and sent her mind up and out, spreading across the city. At first she went tentatively, ready to withdraw behind her shields at the first hint of danger, but the city seemed still and silent and empty. She spread her esp wide, but there was no trace of the Captain or his team. Or the disturbing presence she’d sensed earlier. She dropped back into her body, and staggered uneasily for a moment as her headache returned, worse than ever.

“Nothing,” she said bluntly. “Not a damned thing. Either the Captain and his people haven’t got here yet, or…”

“Or what?” said Corbie.

“I don’t know.” DeChance frowned thoughtfully. “I picked up something; nothing more than an image, really, but it might be significant. You can’t see it from here, but there’s a huge copper tower in the middle of the city. I think it’s important in some way. Either to us, or to the city. We’ll head for that. It’s not much of a goal, I know, but it beats standing around here in the cold.”

Corbie and Lindholm looked at each other, but said nothing. DeChance steeled herself, and led the way forward into the alien city. The marines followed her silently, guns in hand. Buildings of stone and crystal and metal loomed around them, shutting out the bright sunshine. Strange lights burned in open windows, colors slowly changing hue to no discernible pattern or purpose. The only sound was the slap of their boots on the hard, unyielding ground. The shadows were very dark and very cold.

Corbie felt the familiar prickling at the back of his neck that meant he was being watched. Military instincts might not be as officially appreciated as esp, but they could keep you alive if you listened to them. He casually studied the dark openings in the buildings around him, alert for the slightest sound or movement, but whatever was watching wasn’t about to give itself away that easily. Corbie hefted the disrupter in his hand. It didn’t feel as comforting as it once had. It doesn’t matter how powerful a gun is, if you haven’t anything to aim it at.

He didn’t like the city at all. The buildings’ shapes and dimensions were subtly disturbing, and the broad streets followed no pattern or design he could recognise. Each street was perfectly smooth and featureless, untouched by traffic or time. Even the air smelled wrong. The faint, sulphurous odour of the plains was gone, replaced by something oily and metallic that grated on his nerves.

“This place is dead,” said Lindholm quietly. “Nothing’s lived here for centuries.”

“Maybe that’s what we’re supposed to think,” said Corbie. “There’s something here. I can feel it.”

Lindholm shrugged. “I hope so. I’d hate to think I walked all this way for nothing.”

“Are you crazy? Out on the plains we were surrounded by killer centipedes, almost eaten alive by a melting forest, not forgetting the damn geysers, and finally we were attacked in the night by something that wasn’t even slowed down by a proximity mine exploding right next to it! And you want to meet whatever twisted mind thought this lot up? Come on, Sven; I hate to think what the sophisticated life forms on this planet will look like.”

“You might just have something there.” Lindholm glanced at one of the doors they were passing. It was easily twelve feet high and seven feet wide. “Whatever lived here was big, Russ. A race of giants. Just think about the scale.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Hold it.” DeChance’s voice cracked loudly on the quiet, and the marines stopped dead in their tracks, raising their guns reflexively.

“What is it?” said Corbie.

“I’m not sure. Let me think.” She tried to raise her esp, and couldn’t. The sheer alienness of the city was overpowering. “I thought I saw something moving, just on the edge of my vision. Down that way.”

The marines looked where she indicated, and then looked at each other.

“It could be anything,” said Corbie.

“Probably nothing,” said Lindholm.

“No point in putting ourselves at risk.”

“We’re just a scouting party. The Captain said so.”

“Even if there is something there, it could be leading us into a trap.”

“Yeah. Let’s go after it.”

“Right.”

They grinned at each other, and started off down the street. They’d given it enough time to get away, if it was just an animal. On the other hand, if it wanted them to follow it, it would still be there, waiting for them. DeChance hurried along beside them, her eyes fixed on the spot where she thought the movement had been. It turned out to be a street intersection. They stopped and looked around them. There was no sign of any living thing, but far down on the right-hand side of the street, a huge metallic door was slowly closing. DeChance and the marines moved silently towards it, guns at the ready. The door was firmly shut by the time they got there, and the featureless metal had no handle or obvious locking mechanism. Corbie blasted it open with his disrupter. The torn metal door was blown inwards by the impact. Lindholm quickly moved forward to take the point until Corbie’s gun had recharged, and then one by one they stepped cautiously through the doorway.

Oval panels set into the high ceiling glowed varying shades of red, none of them very bright. The walls were a complex latticework of glistening metallic threads. Dark nodes hung in clusters here and there on the latticework, grouped in no discernible pattern. Massive, hulking alien machinery jutted from the walls and floor and ceiling. No one machine looked like any other, but they were all covered with kaleidoscopic displays of lights that hurt the eyes if stared at too long. The lights flickered on and off at irregular intervals, but there was no other sign to show how or why the machines were working. A low, almost sub-audible hum permeated the air, which had a tense, static feel.

“What the hell is this place?” said Lindholm.

“Beats me,” said Corbie. “But it must be important if the machines here are still working, long after everything else has shut down. Look how clean and immaculate it is in here. The rest of the city looks like it’s been deserted for centuries, but as far as these machines are concerned their operators could just have stepped outside for a moment and left things running till they got back.”

“Centuries …,” said Lindholm. “Could they really have been running all that time, unattended?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve got a bad feeling about this place, Sven. Let’s get out of here. Now.”

“Wait a minute, Russ.” Lindholm looked at DeChance. “What do you think, esper? Can you tell us anything about this place?”

DeChance shook her head. “My esp’s almost useless here. It’s all too alien. My mind could get lost in all this.

I’m an esper, not an Investigator. Krystel might be able to make something of these machines, but they’re beyond me. Could you take one of them apart and see what makes it hum?”

“Not without the right equipment,” said Corbie. “And even then I’d be very reluctant to meddle with anything here. I’d hate to get one of these things doing something and then find I couldn’t turn it off. Besides, I don’t think I like the look of them. Sven …”

“Yeah, I know. You think we’re being watched. I’m starting to feel that way too. It’s up to you, esper. You’re in charge. Do we leave, or go on?”

DeChance scowled unhappily. Without her esp to back her up, she felt blind and deaf. If they went on and there was something lying in wait for them, they could end up in real trouble. On the other hand, they couldn’t afford to overlook the first sign of life they’d found. She hesitated for a long moment, torn by indecision. What would the Captain do? That thought calmed her a little. She knew what he’d do.

“I think we should check this place out,” she said evenly. “Look for a door, or stairs, or something.”

They made their way gingerly through the hulking alien machinery, careful not to touch anything. The constant humming of the machines hovered persistently at the edge of their hearing, like an itch they couldn’t scratch. Corbie glared at the machines, and thought fleetingly that it might be fun to blast one or two of them with his disrupter, just to see what would happen. He’d never cared much for mysteries. He always liked to know what was going on and where he stood. If only so that he could set about turning things to his own advantage. He looked round quickly as Lindholm hissed to him. The big marine was standing before an open doorway in the far wall.

“Where the hell did that come from?” said Corbie quietly.

“Beats me,” said Lindholm. “I’d swear it wasn’t here a minute ago. Maybe we hit the opening mechanism by accident.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Corbie scowled at the opening. It was dark and gloomy in the room beyond, and the pale rosy light from the machine room didn’t seem to penetrate far.

Lindholm moved forward slowly, his disrupter held out before him. Corbie kept close behind him. DeChance stayed where she was. Lindholm stepped quickly through the doorway in one smooth motion, his disrupter sweeping back and forth as he looked around him for a target. A wide-open room lay spread out before him, empty and abandoned. The walls were bare and featureless, and the high ceiling was lost in shadows. Lindholm slowly lowered his gun and walked forward into the room. Corbie and DeChance went in after him.

“Cheerful-looking place,” said Corbie. “I take it you’ve noticed there are no other doorways in here? What happens if the door we just came through decides to disappear again?”

“Then you get to blow a hole in the wall. DeChance, are you all right?”

The marines moved a step closer to the esper as she swayed unsteadily on her feet. Her face was ghostly pale in the dim light, her eyes fixed and staring.

“I can hear them,” she said faintly. “I can feel them, all around us. They’re waking up.”

“Who are?” said Corbie.

“They’re waking up,” said DeChance. “They’re coming for us. They want what makes us sane.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The Alien

“If we’re going to set a trap,” said Investigator Krystel, “I have to be the bait. No offence, Captain, but I’m most likely to survive if something goes wrong.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” said Hunter. “I’ve seen an Investigator in action before.”

“From a distance, I trust,” said Krystel.

“Of course,” said Hunter. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Krystel smiled fleetingly and looked round the large open square they’d chosen as the setting for their trap. Jagged metallic buildings stood side by side with squat stone monoliths and intricate structures of spiked glass. There were only three entrances to the square, one of which was blocked with a high wall of rubble from a derelict building. There was no sign to show why the building had collapsed, and its neighbours seemed unaffected. Krystel eased her sword in its scabbard, and checked the power level on her force shield. Everything was ready. All they had to do now was bait the trap and stand ready to spring it.

It should work; it was simple and straightforward. Hunter and Williams would leave the square, making a great deal of noise as they did so, and then circle quietly back, staying under cover all the way. Krystel, on the other hand, would take her ease in the middle of the square, and wait to see if anything came to join her. Simple and straightforward. Krystel believed in being direct and to the point whenever possible. The more complicated a plan was, the more chances there were for something to go wrong. Besides, they were working against a deadline. They had only three hours or so before night fell, and none of them wanted to be caught in the city after dark. The city might be deserted, but its ghosts didn’t feel at all friendly.

Hunter and Williams made loud good-byes, and left the square together. It seemed very quiet with them gone. Krystel walked over to the wall of rubble, sat down on a comfortable-looking stone slab, and took a cigar stub out of her pocket. She took her time about lighting it, trying hard to give the impression of being completely relaxed and at ease. Normally, she’d have thrown away a stub this small, but she’d nearly finished the pack she’d brought with her. Waste not, want not, as her mother used to say. Krystel drew her sword, took a piece of rag from the top of her boot, and polished the blade with long, easy strokes. The familiar ritual was quietly soothing. When the job was done, she put the piece of rag away and sat with the sword lying flat across her thighs. It was a good blade. A claymore, handed down through three generations of her family. She hoped she’d brought no dishonour to the sword, though sometimes she wasn’t sure. An Investigator’s work was like that, mostly.

She wondered idly what she’d be facing when the time came. The scale of the buildings meant it would be big, probably around nine to ten feet tall. She remembered the statues from the plain, frowned slightly, and then shrugged. It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, she could handle it. She was an Investigator.

She sat up straight suddenly. A faint repetitive sound came clearly to her on the quiet. She looked quickly around her, but there was no trace of any movement, and she couldn’t place which direction the sound was coming from. Krystel stubbed out her cigar and put what was left of it back in her pocket for later. She stood up, sword and disrupter in hand, and slapped her left wrist against her side. The glowing force shield appeared on her arm. She stood waiting, confident and ready, checking out possible cover and escape routes. Whatever was coming sounded large and heavy and determined, but the sounds echoed round and round the square until she couldn’t tell where they originated. Captain Hunter and Dr. Williams should be somewhere close at hand by now, but she knew she couldn’t afford to depend on them. The sound was drawing nearer. A long, wailing howl suddenly broke the silence, shrill and powerful and horribly angry. Krystel’s hackles rose sharply. Something about the awful sound touched her deeply on some basic, primitive level, and she felt a sudden impulse to turn and run until she’d left the alien city far behind her. She crushed the thought ruthlessly. She was an Investigator, and it was just another alien.

Investigators killed aliens. That was their function, their reason for being.

She moved quickly into a shadowed alcove and set her back against the wall. The approaching footsteps were like thunder. The beast howled again, and for the first time Krystel caught a glimpse of something moving beyond the high wall of rubble. She raised her gun, and waited for a target. The rubble suddenly burst apart as the alien crashed through it. Shards of broken stone and metal flew through the air like jagged hail. The beast stepped out into the square, and Krystel’s face screwed up in disgust.

It was tall, well over twenty feet. It would have been taller if it hadn’t been for the stooping back and thrust-forward head. It was dirty white in colour, its rough hide more like scale than skin. It walked on two legs, and it looked something like a man. Great slabs of muscle corded and bunched on its huge form, but the proportions were somehow wrong. Disturbingly wrong. The twisted arms hung almost to the ground. One arm ended in a viciously clawed hand. The other erupted into a mass of writhing tentacles. Its face was a rigid mask of sharp-edged bone. The great snarling mouth was full of jagged teeth. There were two lidless eyes, yellow as urine, with no trace of pupil or retina. It lurched awkwardly forward into the square, as though searching for some sound or scent it couldn’t quite detect.

Krystel had to fight down an urge to look away. It wasn’t the alien’s form, ugly though it was; she’d seen worse in her time. The alien’s flesh was rotten and decaying, and it left a trail pf foulness behind it. Nubs of discoloured bone showed through the splitting hide, which stretched and tore with every movement. In places, the flesh seemed to stir and writhe of its own volition, as though maggots seethed beneath the surface.

Krystel took a long, slow breath to steady herself, took careful aim with her disrupter, and pressed the stud. The beam of searing energy hit just above the creature’s eyes, and the entire head exploded in a flurry of bloody flesh and bone. The alien slumped to its knees, fell on its side, and lay still. Krystel watched carefully to be sure it was dead, feeling almost let down.
Is that it?
she thought finally, holstering her gun.
All that planning and preparation, and the stupid creature went down under a single disrupter shot.
She smiled briefly. She should have known. Investigators killed aliens. That’s just the way it was.

She stepped out of the alcove and walked unhurriedly across the square towards the unmoving alien. It was certainly big enough, even larger than she’d expected. Where the hell had it been hiding all this time? More importantly, how many more creatures like this were there, and where were they hiding? Hunter and Williams appeared from different sides of the square, guns in hand, and walked over to join her. Krystel looked thoughtfully at the dead alien. At twenty feet tall, it was probably the biggest thing she’d ever shot. Maybe she should have it stuffed and mounted as a trophy. She was about ten feet away when the alien suddenly lurched to its feet. It stood swaying for a moment, and then a new head thrust up from the bloody ruin of its neck. The eyes opened slowly, the eyelids parting stickily, and then its great mouth gaped wide as the alien’s horrid voice echoed across the square.

Krystel grabbed for her gun, knowing even as she did so that the energy crystal hadn’t had time to recharge yet. The alien whirled round to face her, and she brought her force shield up between them. The claymore was a solid weight in her hand. Close up, she could see the rotting flesh writhing and falling apart on the alien’s body. The stench was appalling. It looked steadily at her with its dull yellow eyes, and its grinning mouth stretched impossibly wide. It was reaching for her with its clawed hand when two bolts of searing energy tore its neck and chest apart. Flesh and blood spattered against Krystel’s shield, and she backed quickly away as the alien swung round to face the men who had hurt it. Already its shifting flesh was making good the gaping holes in its chest and throat. Hunter and Williams activated their force shields as the alien turned on them. The tentacles on the end of its right arm stretched impossibly as they reached for the two men.

“This way!” yelled Krystel, indicating with her sword the nearest of the escape routes she’d spotted earlier. She ran for the narrow passageway, and Hunter and Williams ran after her. The alien howled deafeningly and lurched after them. Krystel glanced back over her shoulder. The alien was already closing the gap, moving impossibly quickly for its bulk. Krystel ran full tilt down the passageway between the two buildings, Hunter and Williams sprinting after her, and tried to figure out where the hell to head for next. They weren’t going to be able to outrun the creature. She needed somewhere they could make a stand.

She raked the buildings around her with a desperate glare, and then spotted an open doorway to her right. Without slowing her pace she changed direction, and raced for it. She charged through, gun and sword at the ready, but the gloomy chamber before her appeared to be deserted. Hunter and Williams crowded through after her, and the three of them looked quickly round for something they could use to block the doorway. The room was empty, save for a dozen or so gleaming metallic spirals hanging from the ceiling. Krystel spotted another doorway on the opposite side of the room and padded quickly over to peer into the shadowy opening. She gestured for Hunter and Williams to join her, and then stepped over the threshold.

The new room was even darker, but they didn’t dare use a lantern. The alien might see it. They shut off their force shields, sat down with their backs to the wall, and waited for their eyes to adjust to the gloom. Everything was still and quiet; the only sound in the huge room was their own slowing breathing.

“I can’t hear it anymore,” said Williams. “Can you?”

“It’s still out there,” said Hunter. “It knows we can’t have gone far.”

“What the hell was it?” asked Williams. “I saw it die, and it got up again. It’s like something out of legend. The undead, the beasts that cannot die …”

“Superstition is for immature minds,” snapped Krystel. “Whatever that alien is, it’s real enough. I’ve still got some of its blood on my uniform. And when I blew its head off, it took some time before it could recover enough to grow another. It can be hurt. Stunned.”

“But can it be killed?” said Williams. “Or is it already dead? Its flesh was decaying … I know decomposing flesh when I see it!”

“Keep your voice down,” said Hunter. “Do you want it to hear you?”

Williams shut up. Hunter leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. There had to be a way out of this, if only he could think of it. He had to think of something; he was the Captain. It was his responsibility. It was a pity the pinnace was so far away. Its guns would have blown the dien into so many pieces, it would never have been able to put itself back together again. But he might as well wish for the moons. Even if he could summon the pinnace by remote control, by the time it reached the city everything would be over, one way or another. He looked at Krystel.

“Any comments, Investigator?”

“Our guns should have recharged by now,” said Krystel. “Maybe if we all hit it with disrupters at the same time …”

“That sounds more like a last resort than a plan of action,” said Hunter. “But for want of anything better I suppose it’ll have to do.”

“There’s always the concussion grenades,” said Williams.

“Not accurate enough. That thing can move bloody quickly when it puts its mind to it. Any other suggestions?”

“Retreat,” said Krystel. “Get the hell out of the city and leave the alien behind. Most creatures have a strong sense of territory; if we put enough space between us and it, it should lose interest in us.”

“That’s a lot of ifs and maybes,” said Williams. “You’re supposed to be an expert on alien forms. Haven’t you got anything definite you can tell us?”

“It’s huge, it’s angry, and it’s dangerous,” said Krystel. “It can regenerate damaged tissue. Our weapons are useless against it, and it will quite definitely kill us if we don’t start acting intelligently. On the other hand, for all its power, it doesn’t appear to be very bright. With its advantages, I suppose it doesn’t have to be. But all the time we’re sitting here arguing, it’s getting closer. It could be here any minute.”

Hunter closed his eyes and tried hard to concentrate. There had to be a way out of this.

“If it was going to come straight in here after us, it would have been here by now,” he said finally. “So what’s stopping it?”

Krystel shrugged. “I can’t advise you, Captain. I don’t have enough information. Normally, with a new species like this I’d spend months checking it out from a distance, before even thinking of approaching it.”

She broke off as Williams suddenly sat up straight. “It’s entered the building,” he said flatly. “I can hear it.”

Hunter held his breath and listened, but couldn’t hear anything. He looked at Krystel, who shrugged slightly. Hunter bit his lip. More of the good doctor’s hidden augmentations, presumably. Williams stirred restlessly.

“We can’t just sit here in the dark, Captain. We’ve got to do something.”

“Keep your voice down,” said Krystel. “We don’t know how good its hearing is. And there’s no point in just running blindly.”

“There’s no point in just waiting here for the damned thing to find us! Captain, we’ve got to get out of here!”

There was a sudden stench of corruption, and the room was suddenly darker as the alien’s bulk loomed up outside the huge doorway. Its horrid roar was deafening in the confined space.

“Disrupters!” yelled Hunter, as the three of them scrambled to their feet. “Aim for the head!”

The three disrupters fired almost as one, and the alien’s head blew apart. But this time, the creature didn’t fall. It braced itself on its massive legs and groped blindly through a doorway for its attackers. The three of them backed quickly away, holstering their guns and activating their force shields. Krystel drew her claymore and hacked at the writhing tentacles as they reached for her face. The blade cut cleanly through the rotten flesh, but the wounds healed themselves in seconds. A new head burst up out of the bloody mess of its neck. Its yellow eyes shone in the darkness.