The Madness Engine

by Paul B Spence

  The navigation data led him toward the far cliff of the deep trench. Strange pale fishes occasionally swam by, investigating the light. It was amazing that life could flourish in such a remote and inhospitable place. The water was well below freezing, only kept a liquid by the tremendous pressure. There was also much less oxygen here.

  Life survives.

  It was a lesson to take to heart.

  "You are nearing the site now," said Hephaestus.

  Drake almost fell, he was so startled. It had been many hours since he'd heard anything except the clank of the nodules, his breathing, and his heart. The words were almost painful after such silence.

  "Thank you," he managed.

  "Neutrino imaging shows a buried mass a little over six thousand meters long, a thousand wide, and five hundred meters thick. Basic shape suggests a ship of some kind. It could be a scout ship such as myself. I suggest you use extreme caution."

  "Thanks," Drake replied sarcastically. "I'd never have thought of that myself."

  "The ship does not appear to be intact. It most likely hit the wall as it sank. It is leaning at a twenty-degree slant-wide axis, and fifteen-point-two long axis, nose up."

  "No energy sources?"

  "Just the stasis field."

  "How deep under the sediment is this thing?"

  "Not as deep as you might think," said Hephaestus. "A million years of sedimentation only results in a few meters of deposition here."

  "How deep is a few meters?"

  "No more than four."

  "Oh, that's not so bad. Any idea where an airlock would be?"

  "Turn to your left and walk five hundred meters straight along the wall. That is as close as I can get you."

  Drake unslung his rifle when he had counted five hundred paces. The beam from his rifle flash-boiled the water around him and fused the silica-rich clay of the seabed into glass. He kept the beam going, cutting a tunnel at an angle down toward the buried ship. The ship itself shouldn't be harmed by such a weapon, but the steam from the seawater and vaporized clay formed a bubble of atmosphere around him that collapsed with a devastating thunderclap as he switched off the beam.

  He slid down the glassy tunnel to the hull of the ship. It was scorched but unharmed, confirming his suspicions that it was a ship like Hephaestus. He used the rifle briefly to tunnel along the hull until he found the airlock. The mechanism was fouled, but his armor amplified his already tremendous strength, and he was able to force open the door. Drake rerouted power from his suit into the airlock controls and managed to get it to cycle open.

  "I wouldn't trust the air," Hephaestus said. "Life support is not functioning."

  "I hadn't planned to," he replied. "Where's this power source?"

  "Does the layout of the ship seem familiar to you?"

  "Eerily," said Drake. "It looks like you."

  "The stasis pod is where Medical would be."

  "Right."

  Drake climbed up through the ship, hampered by the lack of power. If the ship had been powered, the internal gravity would have made the slope unnoticeable. He moved cautiously, all his senses straining for any sign of the Enemy, but the ship seemed dead.

  "This ship isn't the same," he said. There was no door where Medical should be. He moved further up the nose of the ship and circled around to the point that his navigational display indicated. He forced open the door when he found it.

  An armored figure lay against the bulkhead. The design of the armor wasn't much different from Drake's own. The helmet sat on the floor. Drake couldn't tell if the mummified figure had been male or female, and it really didn't matter. At least it wasn't likely to have been the Enemy; it was too normal in form. Wires ran from the head to a console, but he didn't know what that represented.

  The silvery sphere of the stasis bubble was three meters across and reflected his lights poorly in the murky air. Drake studied the sphere. The controls were much like those on Hephaestus, but he hesitated to activate them. If there was a person in there, they would die instantly in the pressure, cold, and lack of oxygen.

  "Any ideas, Hephaestus?"

  "I could teleport the sphere up here."

  "I'd rather not have one of the Enemy running around inside you."

  "I would rather not have that myself, but we may not have another option."

  "Okay, do it, but keep the field active until I'm back up there."

  "You'll need to come back up the way you arrived to avoid undue stress on your body."

  "I'm aware of that. I'll put sentinels on the equipment so you can get an accurate fix for the teleport, then I'll head outside."

  "Wise. The ship will probably implode when I remove the sphere and machinery."

  "Give me an hour, then bring it up. I'll see you in ten or so."

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Geoffrey was better at unarmed combat than he'd thought he would be.

  He still wasn't used to the fact that he'd put on several kilos of muscle and lost his baby fat after he'd come to the Concord. He'd done well in the induction training, despite how much he hated it, and he had another advantage he hadn't even considered: He'd been trained in bladed combat by Drake, who certainly hadn't limited himself to just the blade. For Drake, combat was something you won, period. There were no rules other than to win. Geoffrey had never won while training with him, of course, but he'd tagged him often enough.

  There was also the small matter of Geoffrey being stronger than he should be. He'd assumed it was something the Concord had done to him, but Alessa claimed otherwise. The MI told him that his physiological structure had been altered at some time in the past. He wasn't quite human anymore; he was a lot closer to being like Tebrey.

  He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

  Tebrey called a meeting at the end of the week to discuss the upcoming mission to Vesuvius, in the Wolf Empire. Naomi was there, as the senior marine officer aboard ship, and Geoffrey felt as useful as a third wheel on a unicycle. Deegan was also back, and Geoffrey found himself wondering where he'd gone.

  "As some of you may know, I've been to the planet before," Tebrey said. "I met the Auroran Emerald there after my last mission for the Federation. Vesuvius was rather heavily guarded, both ground-to-space weapons and two heavy cruisers. The FSS Centaur was scuttled in orbit after the fewer than two hundred surviving crew transferred to the Arcadia. The fighting on the ground was fierce, and the Empire detonated a nuke over their base to try to keep its secrets."

  "May I ask what your mission on the planet was, sir?" asked Naomi.

  "I was there to raid their computer banks."

  "And were you successful?"

  "I was," Tebrey replied. "But, unfortunately, the data was handed over to the Federation when I returned to Prism, just before it was destroyed. I think you know the results of that."

  Naomi flinched next to Geoffrey, and it took him a moment to remember. The battle with the Theta at Prism had been falsely blamed on the Concord. The late Commodore Ffoulkes of the Federation had led his fleet against the Concord in retaliation, resulting in millions of deaths.

  "Admiral Macklin has assigned six ships to our little flotilla. We get four of the new corvettes and two missile destroyers. I'm hoping we don't have a big fight, though. We can't afford to lose any ships. If it looks as if things aren't going our way, we're to pull out and abort the mission."

  "That seems sensible," Deegan said.

  "Sensible, but not optimal," said Tebrey. "Now that Commander Harris has returned to Dawn with the Engine, we need to get as much information on this device as we can. We still don't know how they developed this weapon, or to what purpose. The preliminary report from Lt. Riksen suggests that the Engine was actually built to be a phase device. It would allow the user to step into level one of hyperspace, on a planetary body. This, if it worked, would allow the user to move through solid objects. Unfortunately, it appears they either made a mistake, or the device was sabotaged. Instead, the user is transformed into one
of the enemy."

  "I didn't know that was possible," said Naomi.

  "We didn't, either," Tebrey said. "Deegan, care to add to that?"

  "Theoretically, yes. Anyone can become a Theta entity under the right conditions. Those conditions are not easy to achieve. This is the first time I've heard of a device that can force the change. I must say I'm not happy to hear of it, either."

  "I think that goes for all of us," Tebrey said. "Mr. Meeks? Do you care to add anything?"

  Geoffrey was startled, and felt his face turn red. He'd never liked talking in front of a group. "I'm certain I've never heard of such a thing," he replied. "Drake didn't say much about the Enemy, but if he'd mentioned that they could be made, I'd have remembered."

  "I don't think this can be considered a mistake or accident," said Deegan. "With these Ancient Enemy running around, the First, no level of technology can be dismissed."

  "As I suspected," Tebrey said. "We'll work on the assumption that the device works as it was intended by the Enemy. What bothers me is that I suspect the Empire continued to use the device – indeed, they may have made more than one – even after they knew what it could do. I think they wanted to use these things against the Federation."

  "That fits with the data," said Pt'kar, fully recovered from her injuries now. "In any case, we must assume that we will encounter Thetas when we enter the base."

  Tebrey nodded. "Lt. Commander Blue Horse, your marines are not to enter the base under any circumstances. My team, plus Deegan, will enter once you've secured the perimeter. We'll get in, take care of our business, and get back out."

  Geoffrey thought Tebrey made it sound easy, but he knew it was going to be hell.

  "Deegan will be providing... tactical assistance during the mission. His role is primarily reconnaissance and apportation, not combat. I trust you'll stay back and let us do the fighting, Deegan?"

  "That was my directive from Aurora," Deegan said. He didn't sound very happy about it. "I'm here to offer guidance and help where I can. Until your own abilities have fully developed, we need to be on hand to assure you can escape from a bad situation if it arises."

  In other words, the rest of us are fucked, Geoffrey thought.

  Deegan met his eyes and gave him a slight nod. Geoffrey really needed to learn to keep his thoughts to himself. His face felt as if he'd been in the sun too long.

  "We also desperately need information on what this new weapon the Empire has developed is," Tebrey said. "We have reports of something called Jotnar. We need to find out more about it before the Empire drops one of the damn things on Dawn."

  "We have no idea what it is, Commander?" asked Naomi.

  "Only that the Empire considers it to be some kind of Final Solution. The whispers that came with its name said it was tested on a world on the edge of one of their systems, and the planet was completely destroyed."

  "Alien technology?" she asked.

  "Possibly. That's one of the things we need to find out." Tebrey met everyone's eyes in turn. "Any other questions?"

  No one spoke up.

  "Very good. We leave in three hours. Chi Orionis is forty-five light-years from Dawn. We'll be making the trip through level five of hyperspace at half the speed of light. We'll arrive in Empire-controlled space in eleven hours, and reach the planet an hour after that. Sergeant Pt'kar, please inspect all our weapons and armor. Make sure we're in top shape. We'll meet in this room in ten hours. Dismissed."

  Θ

  The small Jaernalith ship transited into the Chi Orionis system close to the third planet. Caedmon had assured him that the Empire warships wouldn't be able to detect them, but Dougal was still uneasy as they passed the massive vessels. Those ships could swat them like insects if they were noticed.

  Dougal could feel the thousands of souls on the ships, and a part of him hungered for them. He wanted to move among them and drink of their pain. No, he didn't want to, but a part of him needed to. He remembered how he had felt right after his... becoming. He killed many of the scientists there in the laboratory. Then he'd fled into the cold night. He'd wandered, cold and in agony, insane, until the Masters had called to him, and he had obeyed.

  Are you all right? Caedmon asked.

  Dougal laughed; he could do that now. I don't know if I will ever be all right.

  Caedmon radiated understanding. We will be touching down a few kilometers from their base. The atmosphere is cold and low on oxygen. Do you require a suit?

  I honestly don't know, Dougal replied. I've been breathing, but I don't know if that's reflexive memory or needed to survive. I remember being on the surface before. I imagine I can make it to the base.

  Yes, you were picked up near where we will be setting down.

  I was? asked Dougal. I don't remember.

  It is in the records. A ship picked you up and brought you to our world.

  One of your ships?

  Yes. Caedmon's thoughts were colored in shame. Our people have been a part of all this for far too long. We have much to atone for.

  We'll free them, Dougal said. We'll free all of us.

  I hope so, Caedmon said. You give us hope. Do you want me to go with you?

  You'd have a hard time blending in.

  As will you.

  I plan to steal a spacesuit when I get inside the base.

  Will they not think it strange that you walk around with the helmet on?

  Probably, but what choice do I have?

  Not much, I suppose.

  Dougal waited for the ship to land and then cycled the airlock. The atmosphere was cold, as remembered. The thin air hurt his chest as he breathed. Needed or not, however, breathing was no longer optional.

  He ran across the blacken lava and cinders.

  He remembered other times he had walked the surface of this planet. He'd often come out as a child. He knew that. He'd grown up here. His mother... He could picture her but couldn't remember her name. She'd worked here at the base. He didn't know who his father was. She had never spoken of him.

  He was stumbling by the time he reached the airlock at the base. The installation was military, but not heavily guarded. Why would it need to be, with six warships in orbit?

  The airlock cycled, and Dougal took deep breaths of warm, oxygen-rich air. The spacesuits, he remembered, were stored in lockers next to the airlock. He quickly found one that fit, donned it, and locked the helmet down. He could feel the suit against his... body.

  He passed a few people in the corridors. He could feel their curiosity, but they must have assumed he had a good reason to be wearing the suit, because they didn't say anything to him. Three flights of stairs, and he was on a level that suddenly seemed very familiar. The lab... The lab where it had happened was just up the corridor. He raced there, ignoring people who called to him. He burst into the lab, startling a man who was taking readings from an Engine in the center of the room.

  The device wasn't exactly like the one remembered, but it was definitely of a similar build.

  "Who the devil are you?" the man asked in Swedislavic, and Dougal understood him.

  "I...," he managed. It was difficult to form words in air.

  "I don't know who you are, but I'm calling security," said the man.

  "Please, wait. I don't want... to hurt..." Dougal could feel the rage inside him. This man was familiar. He'd been a part of what had been done to him. Dougal had to fight down the urge to thrust his fist into the man's thick paunch and cook him alive from the inside out.

  "Who are you?" the man demanded.

  "I don't know."

  "What?"

  "I don't know!" Dougal screamed. The lights in the rooms flickered, and he felt himself starting to lose control. Please, no, he thought desperately.

  Remember her, Caedmon's thoughts came into his head. Remember the woman who called to you. Dougal felt his rage fading as he pictured her face. She was his mother. He knew that now.

  The man was backing away. "What are you?"

&nb
sp; Dougal reached up and took off his helmet. "I want you to tell me about this device."

  "Tell you what?" the man whispered in terror, staring.

  "Everything."

  Θ

  "Geoffrey!" Naomi caught up with him outside his quarters. "You busy?"

  "I was just going to get some sleep before the mission; I have a feeling it's going to take all my strength."

  "Uh-huh," she acknowledged, and shoved him into the room.

  "What?"

  "Shut up." She pushed him back till his legs hit the bed, and he sat down suddenly. She stripped in one smooth motion. Her body was perfect, lightly muscled and round in all the right places.

  His face found her breasts as he fumbled with his own clothes. Her passion was unexpected, but very much wanted. She climbed onto him, and he slid into her smoothly, gasping at the sudden pleasure. She caressed him across his chest and neck with her lips and moved slowly, moaning in counterpoint to him.

  He growled and rolled over on top of her, holding her down as he thrust faster. Her legs wrapped around him and tried to slow him down, but he kept going harder until she cried out and arched under him, and he was lost in orgasm himself.

  He kissed her over and over until she laughed and pushed him off of her. Then she settled down in his arms with her head on his shoulder. He luxuriated in running his hands along her curves. He'd only dreamed of being with a woman as beautiful as her, back on his Earth. That she was talented and intelligent, too, was almost too much to ask for.

  "Have I told you that you're amazing?" he asked.

  She laughed. "You weren't so bad yourself."

  He felt his face grow warm. "I didn't mean that, although you were that way, too."

  She kissed him. "Shush. We have a few hours. Let's just be happy together. We don't know what tomorrow will bring."

  "Hmm. You know what would make me happy right now..."

  "Again?"

  "Apparently you just have that effect on me."

  No words were needed for a while after that.