The Deep Dark Well (15 page)

Vengeance stared at the
shapes of the thirteen intruders on the holo display.  Headed his way, at high
velocity. 
They must have very good particle shielding.  Or else a magnetic
force shield, though that would only protect them from charged particles
.

“Vessels have begun to
shed velocity,” said the voice of the station main computer in his head.

Destination and ETA?

“Estimated time of
arrival twenty six standard hours,” answered the machine.  “Destination,
holding stations approximately three billion kilometers from this station.”

He studied the vessels
with cold eyes, trying to determine their level of technology.  Of course they
were not as advanced as the station, and could not come near to matching his
resources.  But they might have weapons that could harm the station, or at
least some small parts of it.  Maybe even the part he happened to occupy.

When they get inside of
two billion kilometers you are to open fire with graviton beams.  I want any
ship that pokes its nose over that line to be obliterated.

“It shall be done,
Vengeance.”

Have you located my
brother yet?

“Watcher is not
currently on the station.”

The same answer he
always received.  But he knew his twin had to be somewhere that Vengeance could
reach.  Whenever he rested he awoke to the feel of the difference in the
station that had been left by his weaker brother.  Orders had been
countermanded.  Passwords had been changed.  And there was only one other being
that could have done such.

Where was he?
  Vengeance was one of
the two most intelligent beings to ever live, or at least that was what he had
been told.  But whenever he thought of his brother there was some nagging
thought in the back of his mind.  Something important, he knew.  But still out
of reach, no matter how he tried to access it.   He was unused to the feeling
of not being able to bring whatever was in his mind to the fore.  But still
this information, this link to his brother, and the secret of his disappearing
act, would not come.

“Computer,” he said
aloud.  “Show the latest holos of Watcher.”

The scene sprung into
existence in front of his eyes.  Illusion he knew, but so real he could almost
feel it.  His brother, his identical twin, stood before him, going about his
business.  Not identical, he remembered, looking at the kind expression on the
face, the lack of cruel intent in the eyes. 
The Fool.  To have so much
power in his hands, and not to use it.

Vengeance shook his
head, watching the Watcher.  He was not Watcher.  His name said as much.  He
was hate personified, his name the embodiment of his soul. 
Someday I will
find you brother.  And then there will be only one of us.

“Alert, alert,” said
the computer.  “Ten objects have come through the light barrier at the edge of
the gravity well.”

Vengeance looked at the
ships on the holo that replaced his brother.  Something new, different from the
last.  Their transition from light speed to just below C indicated a technology
more advanced than that of the others.  Enemies of the others perhaps. 
Things
just might get interesting
, he thought.

*    *    *

The Kingdom of Surya
flagship
Danaus
crossed downward through the light barrier smoothly,
well safe of the cluttered gravity well of the Supersystem.  The negative
matter screen of the inertia less drive made a very good particle screen. 
Anything made of normal matter that touched the screen ceased to exist.  But a
corresponding mass of the negative matter screen also ceased to exist, and
Danaus
only carried a limited supply.

If the ship ran out of
the substance, that which allowed it to shed its inertia, and therefore travel
faster than light without having to resort to more than the sum total of energy
in the universe, it would not again see the home stars.

The sphere of negative
matter began to flow along the lines of magnetic force that held it in place. 
Soon it was flowing into the twin pylons that were the storage pods at the side
of the ship, and
Danaus
was once again open to normal space.

Nine other ships
translated soon after, moving into formation with the flagship.

“Continuing
deceleration,” said the helm officer. 

“I want us well below
.5 C before we enter the system proper,” ordered the captain.  “No use straining
the particle shields any more than needed.”

Danaus
hummed with the power
of her MAM generators, using more energy to decelerate now that she actually
possessed mass.  She could still make a good fifty gees, with her inertial
compensators working at max.

“There’s a lot of
traffic out there,” said the navigation officer.

Admiral Nagara
Krishnamurta stared at the holo display at the front of the bridge.  Pinpoints
of energy were everywhere, on the planets, in space.  The stars themselves were
the greatest radiators of signals, natural beacons that they were.  But the
very heavy object at the center of the Supersystem radiated almost like a
living star itself, instead of stellar material that had been compressed to the
ultimate death.

“Mostly primitive radio
traffic from the majority of the planets,” continued the navigation officer. 
“But there are some microwave and coherent light sources as well.”

“Have you located the
enemy?” asked the admiral, his eyes trying to pick out the telltale signature
of the
Nation of Humanity
vessels.

“Not yet, sir,” called
the sensor officer.  “There’s a lot of clutter in this neighborhood.”

“You might want to hear
this, sir,” said the communications officer, his head bent over his console.

“Something of
interest?”

“I think so, admiral,”
replied the officer.  “Give me a second to clear the static.”

The holo of the star
system faded, replaced by a flat screen image of an alien.  Long muzzle, wide
eyes, dog like ears. 
Maurids
, thought the admiral.  They came in races
like humans, with different tones of fur and markings.  This one had a tawny
skin with purple spots.  A female, he thought, with less of a mane than was
common on males.

“Translation coming
through,” said the communications officer.  “They’re using a dialect of galactic
standard unheard in our region of space for millennia.  Computer compensating
for temporal drift.”

“…base,” said the
computer generated voice, which sounded considerably more human than the Maurid
vocal system was capable of imitating.  “We are still cleaning up the mess
here.”

“We have no track of
the aliens,” continued the voice.  “No survivors from the task force.”

“Transmission coming
from a spaceship in transit of the Kuiper Belt of the K5 star,” said the sensor
officer.

“I wonder why they’re
using broadcast?” asked the admiral.  “Not very security conscious, are they?”

“They may be sending to
multiple targets,” answered the communication’s officer.

“Think they’re talking
about our prey?”

“We have analyzed
debris,” continued the voice.  “Initial findings show alloys subjected to
massive gamma radiation, consistent with MAM warheads.  But more powerful than
anything we’ve ever seen.”

“That’s our boys,” said
the admiral.  “Send transmission to that ship.  Let them know we’re friendly,
and try to get all the information they have on the aliens that attacked them.”

“Estimated time for
reply, five hours,” said the communications officer.

“Makes it hard to carry
on a dialogue,” said the captain, looking back at his commanding officer. 
“They might not trust us, after an encounter with the ships of the
Nation
.”

“We’ll be too far away
to do them much harm,” said the navigation officer.  “Though they might not
realize that.”

Silence reigned on the
bridge for a moment, except for the voice of the communications officer
transmitting his message.

“Where do you think
they went?” asked the captain, his eyes sweeping the display of screens at the
navigator’s station.

“Toward the
Donut
,
of course,” said the navigation officer, looking back at the admiral.

“Maybe,” replied
Krishnamurta.  “Maybe not.  Intelligence indicates that was to be their mission
here.  But would they make straight for it?”

The admiral got up from
his chair and walked quickstep to the communications console.  His eyes scanned
the numerous displays, all lit up with the sine waves of communications across
the many bands.

“How many of the
transmissions are of alien origin?” he asked the communications officer.  “I
mean of nonhuman origin of course,” he added, realizing that all of the
cultures around these stars were of alien origin as far as his people were
concerned.  They didn’t listen to the true word of God, any more than did the
heretics of the
Nation of Humanity
.  But his people saw aliens, both
human and nonhuman, as people.  People capable of being led gently to the light
of reason and truth.

“There are at least
seven that I am confident are of nonhuman origin,” replied the officer.  “Maybe
another half dozen that might be, but require further analysis for
confirmation.”

“All of those nonhumans,”
said the admiral.  “Their plan may have been a direct approach to the
Donut
. 
But with the knowledge of all the
evil
in this system, they might just
be lured from their primary task.”

“I want their exact
location, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, walking toward the door to his day
cabin.  “I’m not too worried that they will get on the
Donut
before we
do.  In fact, I’m not sure about our chances of getting on it.  But I will not
stand by and let them massacre innocent souls who are yet to be saved.”

The admiral walked
through the door that swished open at his approach.  The door closed smoothly
behind him as he moved to his comfortable bed.  The crew had their tasks, and
wouldn’t need him to ride herd on them.  As he lay down he contacted the ship’s
main computer through his complink implant.

I want everything you
can tell me about the Supersystem
, he thought over the link. 
Historical
references, legends, obscure quotes, anything that might help me to understand
what we might encounter.

Krishnamurta closed his
eyes as he let the computer system become his inner eyes.  After a while his
concentration lapsed, and sleep came, though the computer kept feeding the
information into his brain, forming the links that would allow him to call up
the information from the primary data banks as needed.

*    *    *

She almost wished the
monster would come back and torment her some more.  Anything to relieve the
painful drudgery of hanging here.  The only relief came from the fear of
wondering what
Vengeance
had in store for her.  Watcher had told her
that very few of the visitors to the
Donut
survived for any great period
after arrival.  Watcher disposed of those he saw as soldiers of fortune.  Those
he saw as harmless had a way of disappearing while he was not around.  He had
cautioned Pandi on wandering the station while he was not around.  He had not
cautioned her that the dangers of the station might come right through the door
of a room she had assumed was secure.

How to get out?
  Her head could not
move in the field, but her eyes could still roam, and roam they did, as much of
the room as she could cover.  The walls of the twenty meter cubed room were
bare, except for the panel to the left that controlled the field.  It was
closed, and probably locked.  Nothing she could do about that now, and it
really didn’t seem to matter much when she couldn’t find a way to leave the
field.  Now if she could get out of the field for a moment?  But if she could
get out of the field, she wouldn’t need access to the controls. 

She glanced to the
right, catching a glimpse of the other field pads lined up in a row down this
wall.  One every two meters, for a total of ten pads.  All of them were on, the
shimmering energy enclosing the tubular area of each cell. 
Maybe the
controls worked all of the cells at once.
  That didn’t make much sense, but
the robot had turned on all the cells when she was placed on the pad.  Maybe
unless instructed otherwise they would turn all the cells on and off in unison.

Would these things hold
a robot?  Or only an organic being?
  If they could hold a robot, it might offer a
solution, assuming they ever came to take her out of here.  And assuming there
weren’t too many of them, meaning more than one, knowing their capabilities.  A
plan began to form.  She didn’t think it was a very good plan as far as it
went.  But any plan was better than none.

Chapter 9

The Galaxy turned out
to be a cold, harsh place, as far as the first explorers were concerned. 
Habitable planets were few and far between.  People were not looking for
inhospitable planets, only capable of supporting life under a dome or in
caverns carved into the rock of the world.  There were enough of those habitats
in the Solar System.  What they wanted were planets, with distant vistas of
cloud filled skies, where they could walk and breath, and live and love,
interacting with the nature they so cherished.  Terraforming solved the
problem, for a while.  Planets in the proper positions around their stars could
be converted into new Earths, as was done to Mars and Venus in the home
system.  But the invention of the graviton beam, millennia later, assured that
humanity would never run out of the space it craved.  Planets could be moved
into position, even between star systems if time was not a factor.  In fact,
there were now so many possibilities that mankind even gifted the other
intelligent races they had discovered with unlimited room for expansion.