In Space No One Can Hear You Scream (18 page)

Volcheme almost laughed. “I should?”

Danestar said, “You asked what else makes sense. There’s one thing that does. You might have thought of it. That U-League specimen didn’t just happen to be drifting around in the Pit where it was found.
Somebody made it and put it there!
”

She had the full attention of everyone in the office now, went on quickly. It was a space-signaling device which could tell human scientists a nearly complete story of how its unknown designers were able to move about freely in the dust cloud and how they communicated within it. And recently Dr. Hishkan had twice broadcast the information that human beings had the space instrument. The static bursts he’d produced had been recorded a great deal farther away from Mezmiali than the Pit.

Volcheme interrupted with angry incredulity. “So you’re suggesting aliens from the Pit have come here for it!”

“I’m suggesting just that,” Danestar said. “And Dr. Hishkan, at least, must be aware that a ship which ðvanished in the Pit a few years ago reported it was being attacked with what appeared to be radiation weapons.”

“That’s true! That’s true!” Dr. Hishkan’s face was white.

“I think,” Danestar told them, “that when that airtruck came into the Depot, something came in with it the truckers didn’t know was there. Something that had a radiation weapon of a kind we don’t know about. Volcheme, if you people have a single functioning brain cell left between you, you’ll tell the control building right now to put out a call for help! We’re going to need it. We want the heaviest Navy ships near Mezmiali to get down here to handle this, and—”

“Volcheme!” a voice cut in urgently from the screen communicator.

The smuggler’s head turned. “Go ahead, Yee!” His voice was harsh with impatience.

“The U-League group that’s been hunting for this Wergard fellow doesn’t answer!” Yee announced. He was the man Volcheme had stationed in the control building. “Seven men—two wearing communicators. We’ve been trying to contact them for eight minutes. Looks like they might have got wiped out somewhere in the Depot the same way as the truck crew!”

There was an uneasy stir among the men in the office. Volcheme said sharply, “Don’t jump to conclusions! Have the operators keep calling them. They may have some reason for staying quiet at the moment. The others have checked in?”

“Yes,” said Yee. “Everyone else who isn’t in the control building is sitting tight behind defense screens somewhere.”

“They’ve been told to stay where they are and report anything they observe?”

“Yes. But nobody’s reported anything yet.”

“Let me know as soon as someone does. And, Yee, make very sure everyone in the control building is aware that until this matter is settled, the control building takes orders only from me.”

“They’re
real
aware of that, Volcheme,” said Yee.

The smuggler turned back to the group in the office. “Of course, we’re not going to be stupid enough to take Miss Gems’s advice!” he said. If he felt any uncertainty, it didn’t show in his voice or face. “Somebody has pulled a surprise trick with some radiation device and killed a number of people. But we’re on guard now, and we’re very far from helpless! Decrain will stay here to make sure Miss Gems does not attempt to interfere in any way. The rest of us will act as a group.”

He indicated the men who had been searching for Wergard. “There are four high-powered energy rifles on the shuttle. You four will handle them. Galester, Dr. Hishkan, Tornull, and I will have handguns. Dr. Hishkan tells me that the radiation suits used for dangerous inspection work in the Depot are stored on the ground level of this building.

“Remember, this device is an antipersonnel weapon. We’ll be in the suits, which will block its effect on us at least temporarily; we’ll be armed, and we’ll be in the shuttle. There’s a barrier exit at the building loading dock, through which we can get the shuttle out into the Depot. Scanscreens are being used in the control building to locate the device or its operator. When they’re found—”

The communicator clicked. Wergard’s voice said, “Volcheme, this is Wergard. Better listen!”

Volcheme’s head swung around. “What do you want?” It was almost a snarl.

“If you’d like a look at that antipersonnel weapon,” Wergard’s voice told him drily, “switch your screen to Section Thirty-six. You may change your mind about chasing it around in the shuttle.”

A few seconds later, the wall screen flickered and cleared. For an instant, they all stared in silence.

Like a sheet of living purple fire, the thing flowed with eerie swiftness along the surface of one of the Depot’s side streets toward a looming warehouse. Its size, Danestar thought, was the immediately startling factor—it spread across the full width of the street and was a hundred and fifty, perhaps two hundred, yards long. As it reached the warehouse, the big building’s defense field flared into activity. Instantly, the fiery apparition veered sideways, whipped around the corner of the street and was gone from sight.

Shifting views of the Depot flicked through the screen as Dr. Hishkan hurriedly manipulated the controls. He glanced around, eyes wide and excited. “I’ve lost it! It appears to be nowhere in the area.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” Volcheme said grimly. “It will show up again.” He asked Galester, “What did you make of that? What
is
it?”

Galester said, “It’s identical, of course, with what we saw engulfing the truck and the men at the lock. We saw only one section of it there. It emerged partly above the surface of the Depot and withdrew into it again. As to what it is . . . ” He shrugged. “I know of nothing to compare it to precisely!” He hesitated again, went on. “My impression was that it was moving purposefully—directing itself. Conceivably an energy weapon could control a mobile charge in such a manner that it would present that appearance.”

Dr. Hishkan added, “Whatever this is, Volcheme, I believe it would be very unwise to attempt to oppose it with standard weapons!”

The smuggler gave him a tight grin. “Since there’s no immediate need to make the attempt, we’ll postpone it, at any rate, Doctor. To me, the significant part of what we just saw was that the thing avoided contact with the defense field of that building . . . or was turned away from it, if it’s the mobile guided charge Galester was talking about. In either case, our enemy can’t reach us until we decide what we’re dealing with and how we should deal with it.”

Danestar said sharply, “Volcheme, don’t be a fool—don’t count on that! The ships that disappeared in the Pit carried defense fields, too.”

Volcheme gave her a venomous glance but didn’t answer. Dr. Hishkan said thoughtfully, “What Miss Gems says is technically true. But even if we are being subjected to a similar attack, this is a very different situation! This complex was once a fort designed to defend a quarter of the continent against the heaviest of spaceborne weapons. And while the interior fields do not compare with the external barrier in strength, they are still far denser than anything that would or could be carried by even the largest exploration ships. I believe we can depend on the field about this building to protect us while we consider means to extricate ourselves from the situation.” He added, “I feel far more optimistic now! When we have determined the nature of the attacking entity, we should find a method of combating it available to us in the Depot. There is no need to appeal to the authorities for help, as Miss Gems suggested, and thereby have our personal plans exposed to them—which was, of course, what she intended!”

Wergard’s voice said from the communicator, “If you want to continue your studies, Dr. Hishkan, you’ll get the chance immediately! The thing is now approaching the main building from the north, and it’s coming fast.”

Dr. Hishkan turned quickly back to the screen controls.

There was a wide square enclosed by large buildings directly north of the main one. The current of fire was half across the square as it came to view in the screen. As Wergard had said, it was approaching very swiftly and there was a suggestion of purposeful malevolence in that rushing motion which sent a chill down Danestar’s spine. In an instant, it seemed, it reached the main building and the energy field shielding it; and now, instead of veering off to the side as it had done before, the tip of the fiery body curved upwards. It flowed vertically up along the wall of the building, inches away from the flickering defense field. For seconds, the wall screen showed nothing but pale purple flame streaming across it. Then the flame was gone; and the empty square again filled the screen.

From the communicator, Wergard’s voice said quickly, “It crossed the top of the building, went down the other side and disappeared below the ground level surface—”

The voice broke off. Almost immediately, it resumed. “I’ve had more luck keeping it in view than you. It’s been half around the Depot by now, and my impression is it’s been looking things over before it makes its next move—whatever that’s going to be.

“But one thing I’ve noticed makes me feel much less secure behind a section energy field than some of you people think you are. The thing has kept carefully away from the outer Depot barrier—a hundred yards or so at all times—and it cuts its speed down sharply when it gets anywhere near that limit. On the other hand, as you saw just now, it shows very little respect for the sectional building fields. I haven’t seen it attempt to penetrate one of them, but it’s actually contacted them a number of times without apparent harm to itself, as it did again in passing over the main building a moment ago.”

Volcheme snapped, “What’s that supposed to tell us?”

“I think,” Wergard said, “that, among other things, our visitor has been testing the strength of those barriers. I wouldn’t care to bet my life on what it’s concluded, as you seem willing to do. Another point—it may be developing a particular interest in the building you’re in. I suggest you take a close look at the square on the north again.”

At first glance, the square still seemed empty. Then one noticed that its flat surface was alive with tiny sparks, with flickers and ripplings of pale light. The thing was there, almost completely submerged beneath the Depot’s ground level, apparently unmoving.

Tornull said, staring fascinatedly, “Perhaps it knows we have that specimen in here!”

Nobody answered. But in the square, as if aware its presence had been discovered, the fire shape rose slowly to the surface of the ground until it lay in full view, flat and monstrous, sideways to the main building. The silence in the office was broken suddenly by a chattering sound. It had not been a loud noise, but everyone started nervously and looked over at the table where the pile of instruments had been assembled.

“What was that?” Volcheme demanded.

“My shortcode transmitter,” Danestar told him.

“It’s recorded a message?”

“Obviously.”

“From whom?”

“I’m not sure,” said Danestar evenly. “But let’s guess. It’s not from outside the Depot because shortcode won’t go through the barrier. It’s not from Wergard, and it’s not from one of your people. What’s left?”

The smuggler stared at her. “That’s an insane suggestion!”

“Perhaps,” Danestar said. “Why don’t we listen to the translation?”

“We will!” Volcheme jerked his head at Decrain. “Go over to the table with her. She isn’t to touch anything but the transmitter!”

He watched, mouth twisted unpleasantly, as Decrain followed Danestar to the table. She picked up the miniature transmitter, slid a fingernail quickly along a groove to the phonetic translator switch. As she set the instrument back on the table, the words began.

“Who . . . has . . . it . . . where . . . is . . . it . . . I . . . want . . . it . . . who . . . has . . . it . . . where . . . ”

It went on for perhaps a minute and a half, three sentences repeated monotonously over and over, then stopped with a click. Danestar wasn’t immediately aware of the effect on the others. She’d listened in a mixture of fear, grief, hatred, and sick revulsion. Shortcode was speech, transmitted in an economical flash, restored to phonetic speech in the translator at the reception point. Each of the words which made up the three sentences had been pronounced at one time by a human being, were so faithfully reproduced one could tell the sentences had, in fact, been patched together with words taken individually from the speech of three or four different human beings. Human beings captured by the enemy in the Pit, Danestar thought, long dead now, but allowed to live while the enemy learned human speech from them, recorded their voices for future use. . . .

She looked around. The others seemed as shaken as she was. Volcheme’s face showed he no longer doubted that the owner of the alien instrument had come to claim it.

Dr. Hishkan remarked carefully, “If it should turn out that we are unable to destroy or control this creature, it is possible we can get rid of it simply by reassembling the device it’s looking for and placing it outside the defense screen. If it picks it up, we can open the barrier lock as an indication of our willingness to let it depart in peace with its property.”

Volcheme looked at him. “Doctor,” he said, “don’t panic just because you’ve heard the thing talk to you! What this does seem to prove is that the specimen you’re selling through us is at least as valuable as it appeared to be—and I for one don’t intend to be cheated out of my profit.”

“Nor I,” Dr. Hishkan said hastily. “But the creature’s ability to utilize shortcode to address us indicates a dangerous level of intelligence. Do you have any thoughts on how it might be handled now?”

Galester interrupted, indicating the screen. “I believe it’s beginning to move. . . . ”

There was silence again as they watched the fire body in the square. Its purple luminescence deepened and paled in slowly pulsing waves; then the tip swung about, swift as a flicking tongue, first toward the building, then away from it; and the thing flowed in a darting curve across the square and into a side street.

“Going to nose around for its treasure somewhere else!” Volcheme said after it had vanished. “So, while it may suspect it’s here, it isn’t sure. I’m less impressed by its apparent intelligence than you are, Doctor. A stupid man can learn to use a complicated instrument, if somebody shows him how to do it. This may be a stupid alien . . . a soldier type sent here from the Pit to carry out a specific, limited mission.”