Wanderer 3: Tainted Universe (23 page)

As the trooper lay his hand on the wall Jess tensed, keeping the laser ready to fire.  Waiting for the troopers hand to move.

It didn’t.  At least not in the way Jess wanted.  The trooper pulled his hand back, leaving a single hand print of explosives which detonated almost immediately, widening the hole in the wall slightly.

The trooper repeated the process twice more.  Jess fired on the third attempt, but he could only hit the trooper’s hand.  The armour shook off the assault.  The next time Jess fired at the explosives as soon as they were visible.  They blew another small hole in the wall without touching the trooper’s hand.

“
Damn,” Jess said.  “They’ve got wise to it already.”

“
Don’t knock yourself,” Dash said.  “Look how much slower this method is.  It will take them two or three minutes at least to get through each wall instead of a few seconds.”

“
Yeah, but that’s the last wall.”

“
That depends on where they try to go next.  Whatever happens, you’ve slowed them a lot.”

“
I can only use that trick when they’re near a laser though.”

“
You know that.  They don’t.  Or they don’t know where the lasers are at least.  You shook them up badly.  They won’t move so quickly now.”

“
I guess.  The big question now is what they’ll do when they reach the hull.”

Dash was proved right.  It took nearly two minutes for the troopers to enlarge the hole so they could break through.  Once through they quickly moved towards the hull.  One put his hand on it.  Jess braced for the coming explosion, hoping the inside of the hull would prove much tougher than the walls had.

The trooper stayed in position for thirty seconds.  Jess thought he must be laying a particularly large charge this time. Then the trooper pulled his hand away.  There was no explosive.  The troopers turned to the right and started to follow the hull as they jogged along, ignoring all side turnings.

After half a minute they stopped.  One lay his hand on the floor.  As it came away Jess saw the expected explosive.  The floor was tougher than the walls.  It took four minutes for them to make a large enough hole to fit through.  Then they all dropped through to the floor below and set off in the same direction as before, sticking close to the hull.

“Why did they take longer to get through the floor?” Dash asked.

“
I don’t know,” Jess replied.  “I thought it was the same as the walls.  Hold on…”

A quick query sent to the
Wanderer
led to a reply in the format he was now used to — a mixture of images, sensations and words.

“
That’s interesting.  The floor has an additional layer woven through it which strengthens it.  I’ll start applying something similar to the walls.  It will take a while though.”

They watched as the troopers went through two more walls, then down through the floor again.

“Where are they going?” Dash asked.

Jess brought up projections based on the troopers course so far.  They all studied it.

“I think they’re heading for an airlock,” Jess said.  “Their course will take them very close.  Too close for it to be a coincidence.”

“
So they’re going to try and get outside the ship the easy way?” Ali asked.

“
Looks that way,” Dash said.  “Well Jess, looks like we’ll get to see you use the jump field to scrape them off.”

They watched in silence for another minute.

“How long have we been in jump space?” Ali asked suddenly.  “It seems longer than before.”

Jess checked.  “Fifteen minutes.  That’s the longest gap we’ve seen between the layers by quite a while.”

“Maybe we’re through the main layers of their defence then,” Dash said.  “Or maybe we’re about to run into whatever has them so scared.”

“
We’re about to find out!” Jess warned, as jump space around the
Wanderer
became clogged by the effects of a tar pit.

Chapter Thirty

Admiral Vorn sat quietly as his fleet closed in on the Quarantine Zone.  His face was calm but turmoil raged inside.

He’d thought he knew what was happening to the Empire on the other side of the Quarantine Zone.  He’d known nothing.  Now he almost wished that was still the case.

The information had been code locked.  Stored securely in a form that only he could access.  His using that access had irrevocably changed the data, making it clear it had been accessed.  The next time the
Starslayer
returned to a major Imperial base Vorn would have to justify accessing the information.

That wouldn’t be a problem.  With his fleet heading into the Quarantine Zone it would have been criminally negligent of him not to review the data.  What he learnt had left him shocked though.

Reading between the lines, the Empire was on the run from an almost unknown enemy.  All that was keeping the Southern Sector safe was the Quarantine Zone.  The Northern Sector was all but lost.  From what he’d read the Quarantine Zone wouldn’t be enough.  In time the Southern Sector would fall too.  The Empire would be destroyed, never to rise again.  The whole human race might go the same way.

Vorn’s faith in the Empire had been shaken.  The initial handling of the problem had been poor.  He felt the threat could have been contained, even destroyed, if it had been recognised sooner.  Instead the Taint had been allowed to spread.  By the time the true danger was recognised it was impossible to contain.

There was precious little information about the Taint.  Most efforts to study it had led to the researchers themselves becoming infected.  The information had been summarised into a few short paragraphs.

The Taint can be passed on rapidly, yet it doesn’t affect everyone.  All the evidence suggests new victims are chosen in a logical way.  The Taint is much more than just a plague.  It has a mind.

Some degree of physical proximity is needed for transmission, but contact does not appear to be required.  Shields prevent transmission.  If a ship’s shields are down then any physical contact may lead to infection.  This includes impacting debris and physical weapon strikes.

For four to five weeks there is no way to identify someone who has fallen to the Taint.  After that period a rapid physical change takes place.  The victim’s skin develops patches of a black web-like pattern, almost like a tattoo.  Over the next few days the pattern spreads to cover every part of their body.  The pattern seems to cause no problems, but it does mean that all those who have been tainted for at least six weeks can easily be identified.

There is no known way to identify those who are tainted before those physical changes take place.  The tainted appear completely normal.  They can carry on conversations, work, play and even fool their loved ones.  Until they reveal their true nature.  Ship after ship, station after station and even planet after planet have been lost because of this.

One hundred percent of those infected fall to the Taint.  There is no credible account of anyone either resisting or recovering from the Taint.

Vorn still felt cold spikes in his gut when he thought about those paragraphs.  The information had then gone into technical details of the steps required to keep ships safe from the Taint.  Vorn had scanned that section and would return to it soon.

How much should he tell his officers?  And how much of that should the general crews be told?  As little as possible he decided.  Enough to ensure the ships were safe without risking morale.  He would tell them the practical details, but not the background.  That went for the officers too.  He needed them all to be at their best.

It dawned on Vorn that he might have signed his own death warrant.  The knowledge he’d gained of the Empire’s failures meant he would no longer be allowed to travel the Southern Sector.  As long as he stayed in the Northern Sector that threat would be held at bay.  Returning would mean his death, and probably the deaths of many of his officers.

That assumed they were even allowed to return.  The most likely response would be for his fleet to be destroyed, to ensure no contamination could slip back through.

If he wanted to return he would have to bring something important.  Something critical to the Empire.  He had to capture the
Wanderer
.  Not just for his own sake.  For the sake of the all humanity.  If the intelligence behind the Taint gained the
Wanderer
’s technology the Empire would be overwhelmed in next to no time.

*****

Greenseed Station

“We need to increase food production,” Marsh said.  “We’re beginning to cut into the stores, and the amount of food we’re giving away is still increasing.”

“
By how much?” asked Harkness, Greenseed’s food production manager.

“
How much can you give me?”

Harkness became thoughtful.  Marsh knew from previous experience that Harkness would be doing the calculations in his head.  There would be no hurrying him.

Marsh found himself studying the other man, looking for any signs of rebellion.  It was something he’d found himself doing with more and more of those who worked for him.  He couldn’t stop it, even though he realised it was evidence of a dangerous paranoia.

Harkness was tall, even taller than Marsh, but heavily built where Marsh was slight.  At fifty-one he was a decade and a half younger than Marsh too.  He didn’t look it.  His grey shoulder length hair was greasy and his normally neat beard hadn’t been trimmed.

Marsh and Harkness had always made a good team.  Marsh trusted the technical expertise of Harkness.  Wherever possible he had supplied what was needed to improve the crop yields.  Harkness enjoyed not being micro-managed, though he understood with greater freedom came greater responsibility.

“
I think we can manage a fifteen percent increase with what we have,” Harkness said at last, his eyes blinking back to focus on Marsh.  “Anything more and we will need more equipment.  More raw materials too.”

“
Equipment is no problem.  We’ve captured plenty of rocks.  Processing them into soil will take a few days.”

“
And we need more workers.  Or more slaves.”

Harkness locked his eyes on Marsh as he said that, knowing what was coming.

“You know that isn’t possible,” Marsh said.  “Where would we get them?  And how would we know they weren’t tainted?”

“
Without them we can’t increase production,” Harkness replied stubbornly.

“
The slaves we have will need to work longer hours,” Marsh said.

He said it gently.  Harkness had strong views on caring for the slaves under his control.  Views that Marsh mostly agreed with, under normal circumstances.  These were far from normal circumstances.

“How much longer?” Harkness asked.

Marsh was surprised.  He’d expected Harkness to fight the idea.  Was this somehow a way of doing that?  Was he gathering information before fighting back?

Harkness chuckled at the fact Marsh hadn’t answered.

“
I’m not stupid,” Harkness said.  “Everyone on the station command staff is already pulling extra shifts.  The slaves will need to work harder too.”

Marsh smiled.  “Good.  I want to increase production as far as we can.  They will need to work every day, and work longer hours than before.  The amount of food we need to meet demand is starting to grow exponentially.  At some point not too far in the future it will outstrip our production.  At that point the size of our reserves will determine how long we survive.”

Harkness swallowed hard.  “If that is going to happen anyway, why not stop supplying food?  Focus on building defences instead?”

“
However much we put into our defences, someone out there will have a bigger force.  We may only be delaying the inevitable at the moment, but then isn’t that what life is about anyway?”

Harkness was silent again, running calculations in his head that Marsh would struggle to manage even with a computer.  Marsh was pleased at the way Harkness had taken the challenge.  One more person that could be trusted.  Mostly at least.

“Half a day off every week,” Harkness finally said.  “If they don’t get that much of a break then they’ll burn out in a couple of weeks.  Within three or four weeks they’ll be producing less food than if we’d let them have the break.  I can rotate them so production isn’t significantly slowed at any time.”  His eyes narrowed.  “Or don’t you think we can last even that long?”

Marsh forced a smile.  “If we can turn out the food then we should be able to last a lot longer.  How much can you increase productivity by?”

“Fifty-three percent in two weeks.  After that… I need to run the calculations properly.  There are too many variables right now.”

“
Fifty percent is enough for now.  Let me know if you need anything.”

“
Commander…”

Harkness paused for a moment, then pressed ahead.  His voice was low, conspiratorial, even though they were alone.

“Commander… how long do you think we can hold out?”

“
For as long as necessary,” Marsh replied.  “As long as we keep supplying food we should be worth too much to attack.”

“
Except to the tainted,” Harkness replied darkly.

“
Even then, it’s likely they have to eat.”

“
You think we might have supplied them already?” Harkness asked, panic entering his voice.

Marsh cursed himself for not choosing his words more carefully.

“No.  Definitely not.  I’m just saying if they do arrive here then they would be unlikely to attack, and our quarantine ensures they can’t infect anyone on the station.  Relax.  We can hold out until the Empire floods this area with ships.”

“
You’re sure they’ll come?”

“
Of course!  Think of how large the empire is.  Think of the forces it commands.  What could possibly stand against the might of the Empire?”

The words worked.  Harkness relaxed and soon left the office, his mind focused on how to squeeze the best possible yield from the crops.

What could possibly stand against the might of the Empire? 
Marsh couldn’t get the question out of his head.  Despite what he’d told Harkness he didn’t expect to see Imperial forces charging to the rescue.  Greenseed would be a critical station they would want to secure.  Its ability to produce both food and supplies in large volumes would be crucial to any fleet.

Yet there had been nothing.  Not even the rumour of a fleet.  The only rumours he’d heard were that Imperial ships had themselves fallen to the Taint.  Something he felt must be increasingly likely.  His mind turned to the other question Harkness had asked.

How long do you think we can hold out?
  Marsh was beginning to think he knew what the answer would be. 
Not long enough
.

*****

Admiral Vorn tensed as the
Starslayer
was dragged out of jump space.  Even when expecting it the feeling was unpleasant.  A complete loss of control for someone used to commanding tens of thousands of lives.

Almost immediately proximity alarms started to ring out.  Sections of a large fleet lay directly ahead.  Vorn was shoved into his seat as the
Starslayer
immediately began taking evasive manoeuvres.  Seconds later systems caught up with what Vorn already knew.  The fleet was Imperial, and not hostile.

He still breathed a sigh of relief.  While he, and his crew, had been expecting the Imperial fleet that fleet hadn’t known what was appearing from jump space.  Systems all over the defensive fleet would be flagging
Starslayer
and Vorn’s other ships as friendly, removing the risk of friendly fire.

“
Admiral, incoming transmission.  Highest security level.”

“
Thank you,” Vorn said to the officer on comms.  “Route it to my office.”

“
Aye sir.”

“
Pilot, keep us on a slow but steady course.  I want to see that we are past the defensive fleet before I finish this call.”

“
Aye sir.”

Vorn sat down in his office and composed himself before accepting the call.  The image of another Admiral appeared on the screen.

“I am Admiral Lancaster.  State your name and intentions.”

Lancaster’s voice was smooth, mellow almost, and calm but Vorn sensed the strength of purpose behind it.  Lancaster was older than Vorn, into his sixties.  Not surprising.  This was the final defence for the whole of the Southern Sector.  A cool head would be needed to ensure nothing got through, no matter the cost.

Vorn studied Lancaster for a moment.  Deep brown skin.  Head shaved clean.  No trace of a beard.  Average build.  Vorn would have pegged him as being competent, but the posting showed he was far more than that.  Vorn decided he needed to be careful.