Alien Honor (A Fenris Novel)

by Heppner, Vaughn

“Could we be missing the signals?” Nagasaki asked.

  “Captain, if they had industries, if they had starships, we would easily see the evidence of it from here. There is nothing. That means we’re viewing a pristine star system.”

  “What about an alien starship?” Nagasaki asked.

  “We don’t spy any evidence of one, but one could be hiding behind a planet or be stealthy. We are still far away.”

  “Those are my thoughts exactly,” Nagasaki said. “We will continue to scan, searching for a sign of one.”

  Nine hours later, Captain Nagasaki readied himself for the last great jump. He wore the blue uniform of the Solar Space Navy, with his Orion Star pinned in place.

  He thought about all that he’d done this voyage. He had helped oust Premier Lang’s secret policemen from enforcing their tyrannical regulations aboard the Teleship. Now, through him, the Dictates ruled Discovery. In time, he would become the Archon of New Eden. The Teleship had begun its journey as humanity’s new hope of starting over. That was still true after a fashion. Just like the phoenix of legend rose from the ashes, so the Dictates were about to rise again.

  First, there was the deadly matter of a cyborg vessel, perhaps several of them, hiding behind the gas giants. That was something he’d learned from his study of the Great War. The cyborgs made mathematically logical choices. That made them predictable and therefore beatable.

  Technically, Discovery wasn’t a warship, but it could have defeated anything from the last war except for a Doom Star. He doubted the cyborgs possessed a Doom Star-level warship here. Their strategy and tactics from the last war showed their preference for small vessels.

  Through a screen, Nagasaki gazed at the AS 412 star. Despite his goal and desire for battle, something nagged at him. It had begun this morning as he’d looked at the bathroom mirror. He had cut himself while shaving, meaning he had a nick on his chin. It had oozed blood earlier, although now it was a tiny scab. He had never cut himself before, but he had this morning because he’d become distracted.

  He gazed at AS 412, New Eden to the others. A worm of doubt wriggled through his thoughts. Unfortunately, he couldn’t pinpoint the source of his doubt, which wasn’t like him.

  He went through a mental checklist: He was the captain, check. He ran Discovery, check. Chief Monitor Argon was safe in the brig, check. He—

  It struck him that the problem wasn’t going to be on a checklist. Nagasaki didn’t know how he knew, but there it was.

  It must be something I’m missing or not seeing.

  He scanned the officers at their posts. Each worked diligently, readying himself for the shift. Through his screens, he began checking the outer laser stations and missile pits on the surface of the Teleship. Everything was functional. Even the marines were ready, some of them combat-suited for action.

  Nagasaki kept checking ship systems until he received a call from Dr. Wexx in the tele-chamber.

  “We’re ready, Captain,” Wexx said.

  Nagasaki twisted to the left screen. Wexx wore her sunglasses and she’d put up her hair. The woman was beautiful. Behind her in the chamber, he spied the cylinder of blue solution. Special Second Class Jasper had submerged into it, settling into position.

  “We’re about to shift?” Nagasaki asked.

  He had the impression she was studying him. It was difficult to tell with those sunglasses. Finally, she spoke, asking, “Are you feeling well?”

  Nagasaki hesitated. What was wrong with him? “I’m not feeling one hundred percent,” he heard himself say.

  “What seems to be the trouble?” she asked.

  “That’s just it. I don’t know.”

  Wexx smiled in a sorrowful way.

  Nagasaki didn’t like the smile, as it seemed condescending. “I’m not a psychologist,” he said. “So I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing.”

  “Excuse me?” Wexx asked.

  Nagasaki almost frowned. What was wrong with him? This was… was…

  “I know what’s troubling you,” Wexx said. She glanced back at the cylinder as she said it.

  “Tell me,” Nagasaki said in a clipped manner.

  Wexx faced the screen. Before she could speak, a marine stepped up behind her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, which made the doctor cringe.

  A surge of outrage flared through Nagasaki. It was heat in his chest. “Now see here,” he said. “Take your hand off the doctor.”

  “Orders,” the marine said in a sluggish voice.

  “Who gave you these orders?” Nagasaki said. The marine had the audacity to keep his hand on the officer’s shoulder.

  “Colonel Konev,” the marine said.

  “The colonel has no authority over Dr. Wexx,” Nagasaki said. “You will take your hand off her at once and report to your colonel for discipline.”

  “The mutiny has changed the situation,” Wexx said in a dull voice.

  “There hasn’t been a mutiny,” Nagasaki said. “Premier Lang illegally usurped power and we have rectified the situation.”

  “It is time to shift,” the marine said. “Tele-chamber out.” The screen went blank.

  Nagasaki sat back in his command chair, stunned. This was unbelievable. This was an outrage. A marine had dared to put hands on an officer. This must be the source of his unease. Yet even as he thought that, he knew it was wrong. There was something else troubling him.

  “Sir,” Lieutenant Tanaka said. “The tele-ring is powering up.”

  Nagasaki snapped out of his daze. Whatever was wrong would have to wait. Discovery was about to take the final leap to AS 412. This was a historic moment—it would be his second. He had helped colonize Epsilon Eridani. Now, he would begin the colonization of New Eden, as the others liked to call the system.

  “We’re raising the null shield,” Tanaka said.

  Nagasaki’s anticipation grew. The null shield was like Wexx’s sunglasses, blocking a harmful ray—in this instance, sight of the null field within the discontinuity window.

  “Increase ship’s acceleration,” Nagasaki said.

  The next few minutes were ones of intense activity as the officers went about their tasks. Presumably, Dr. Wexx and Special Jasper went about theirs.

  Then the grand moment arrived. The meteor-like Teleship spewed a long tail of fusion exhaust. The tactical domes on its surface were ready if needed. Seconds before the null portal appeared, acceleration quit and the long fusion tail vanished.

  The rotating tele-ring brightened into an intense chrome color. Then a null portal began as a rip in space. The rip or tear expanded rapidly, joining two points over one light year apart. The great colonizing Teleship of Sol moved into the portal, shifting from one location and exiting at another in AS 412. As the null portal snapped shut, klaxons began to wail on Discovery.

  Captain Nagasaki spoke crisply. “Gentlemen, let’s start looking for signs of technological—”

  He stopped short because he began to notice what was on his screens, the ones showing the star system. The complexity of the sight overwhelmed his senses. This couldn’t possibly be right.

  “Is this a joke?” Nagasaki asked.

  The three officers weren’t laughing. Like the captain, they stared at their screens in shock, dismay, and growing horror.

  It felt like a dream to Nagasaki. He raised his arms. His hands felt like lumps of clay. His fingers were stiff. He adjusted the screens nonetheless.

  “Are any of you seeing this?” Nagasaki asked in a small voice.

  “I am,” Tanaka managed to rasp.

  “It can’t be real,” Nagasaki said.

  “I think it is, sir.”

  “Begin analyzing data,” Nagasaki said in a stern voice.

  Tanaka and the other two officers looked up at him. Nagasaki gazed down. He’d regained control of himself and stared at his officers in his calm and level way. He didn’t shout. He didn’t rave. He spoke as he always did in his commanding manner. Maybe it calmed the three officers. Maybe thei
r training took hold. They turned to their screens and began to tap and adjust sensors.

  Captain Nagasaki blinked several times, trying to throw off the feeling of unreality. How could he be seeing this? There had been absolutely no sign of any technologically advanced civilization before this. He should not be able to see this now. Or more precisely, it should not exist. If it did exist, he should have seen signs of it long ago, many light years out.

  In his coldly efficient way, Captain Nagasaki began to catalog what he was seeing, what the Teleship’s sensors were showing him.

  There were ships and habitats in the asteroid belt. He could see long fusion burns. Those ships weren’t heading toward him, but they were doing something. At the nearest gas giant, he spied many habitats ringing the planet. The moons in the planetary gravitational system showed high industrial use. As interesting, a warship accelerated toward them on an intercept course. That interception was still many millions of kilometers away, but it was there just the same and that shouldn’t be possible.

  The second gas giant had similar habs and inhabited moons. It showed more fusion burns and more spaceships.

  Nagasaki kept adjusting the sensors, tapping the screens, drinking in the astonishing data. The system appeared to be as fully inhabited as Sol was. How could the ship’s sensors have failed to spot any of this before? No possible science could have hidden such a vast amount of evidence.

  The nearer Earth-like planet was irradiated, barren, and lifeless. Fires raged on it. One of those fires was a ring, with blackened material in the center. If he were to guess, he would say some of the spaceships had bombarded the planet with nuclear weapons: hundreds maybe even thousands of nuclear bombardments.

  Had Discovery stumbled into the middle of a system-wide war? That should be impossible. Why hadn’t the sensors picked up anything earlier?

  The other Earth-like planet…

  Nagasaki wiped his brow. He felt feverish.

  Satellites ringed the next Earth-like planet. Even as he watched, lasers beamed from one of the satellites and stabbed down onto the planet. This was incredible. It was mindboggling.

  “Captain Nagasaki!”

  He tore his gaze from the main screen, turned his head, and looked at Dr. Wexx as she appeared in another.

  “Yes?” he asked in a dull voice.

  “Why are the klaxons continuing to wail?”

  “Aliens,” Nagasaki managed to say.

  “Have you spotted the enemy ship?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Then why are the klaxons wailing?”

  “The entire system… aliens,” he said.

  “You’re not making sense, Captain.”

  “It’s inhabited.”

  “What is?”

  “Everything. We’ve stumbled onto a system-wide war.”

  “How is that possible?” Wexx asked.

  “Sir,” Tanaka said. “I think you’d better look at this.”

  “Excuse me, Doctor,” Nagasaki said. “What is it?” he asked Tanaka.

  “Discovery is headed for an asteroid or one monstrous ship.”

  “Are we on a collision course?”

  “No, sir, but close enough that the situation strikes me as too coincidental.”

  “Give me a close-up of the asteroid or giant ship.”

  Lieutenant Tanaka made some quick adjustments. “It should be coming up on your number two screen.”

  Nagasaki saw it. The construct was nothing like the Teleship with its rough meteor-like surface. This one was like a giant ball bearing: round, smooth, metallic, and artificial. No, it wasn’t completely round. There was a forest of strange antennae sprouting from the surface. The antennae were aimed at the Teleship.

  “Are those weapons?” Nagasaki asked.

  “Possibly,” Tanaka said.

  “Ready laser six.”

  “Captain,” Tanaka said. “I’m—”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Tanaka turned in his chair, staring up at Nagasaki. “Captain, we’re being hailed on a regular radio frequency.”

  “Open channels,” Nagasaki said. “Is there video coming in, too.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good,” Nagasaki said. “Let’s get a look at our aliens.”

  His number two screen blurred for a moment. Then a long-faced human with a tall cranium stared at him.

  Cyborgs! It was Nagasaki’s first thought. He realized the thought was wrong almost right away. At least, there was nothing mechanical about the human. Could he be a cyborg front creature, used to confuse them?

  The human or humanoid had elongated features and intensely blue eyes. He wore a platinum headband around his extra-tall forehead. He had a longish nose, a regular mouth and almost no chin. He was white with a sparse amount of dark hair on top of his strange head. A tall collar jutted into view, with a glimmering pendant around his throat.

  Hungry for details, for data, Nagasaki peered behind the humanoid. Another manlike creature with similar features walked past. The station appeared to have gravity. Once the being moved out of sight, Nagasaki saw a clear dome farther back. There was a similar humanoid in it, a seated man. The one in the dome pressed the metallic band around his forehead against two discs attached to tubes curving down out of sight.

  Before Nagasaki could recover from his astonishment, the first humanoid, the one regarding him, opened his mouth. The teeth were too small, but otherwise ordinary enough.

  The humanoid spoke, and Nagasaki found himself leaning forward, trying to listen. No words came, or nothing audible, in any case.

  “What are you saying?” Nagasaki asked.

  The lips moved again, and a sharp pain spiked in Nagasaki’s head. He winced. The humanoid spoke more rapidly. Still, Nagasaki didn’t hear a thing. Now, however, the pain in his head increased. He reached up and pressed a palm against his temple.

  On-screen, the humanoid smiled cruelly, and he appeared to nod to someone Nagasaki couldn’t see.

  “Tanaka, why aren’t we getting any sound?”

  It was the last thing Nagasaki asked. The humanoid regarded him once more and spoke quickly. No audible words sounded, but the pain stopped in Nagasaki’s head. He nodded after a moment and his sense of unease vanished. He spoke crisply, giving orders to Tanaka and the other two compliant officers.

  Teleship Discovery rotated so its mighty fusion engines aimed in the direction of its travel. The engines engaged, and a long fusion burn increased as the ship decelerated at three and a half gravities.

  The humanoid with the platinum band around his forehead watched through the screen. After Nagasaki performed the braking maneuver, the humanoid raised one of his hands. He had elongated, skinny fingers. The man spoke without making a sound.

  In his command chair, Nagasaki grew sleepy. His eyelids sank until they closed. The captain and his three-man bridge crew were out, with the rest of the ship in communication link with the nearing alien vessel.

  2

  The klaxons stopped wailing but the crushing Gs did not. Cyrus lay in his cot in his tiny cell in the brig, enduring as well as he could.

  He’d been in here several days already, having spoken to no one but the marine guard who gave him a meal once every twenty-four hours. He was supposed to be in the brig with Chief Monitor Argon, but he hadn’t seen the man. No doubt the giant was in a nearby cell.

  It had been a boring stretch of time. This was little better than solitary confinement. There was no screen, no computer, no e-reader—nothing to help him pass the time.

  He’d been doing a lot of thinking, but mostly practicing his mind shield. He’d felt Jasper try to probe him several times, but he believed the telepath had failed each time. His prolonged thinking had led Cyrus to the conclusion that he should learn to act quicker and with greater decisiveness.

  At the moment, other than his automatic mind shield, he didn’t practice his psi-powers nor did he do much heavy thinking. He just endured the crushing Gs pressing him into the
cot.

  How long were they going to—? Is the ship accelerating or decelerating? Why would Discovery do either?

  It was at this point that he felt Jasper again. The telepath attempted another of his psi probes.

  A tight grin curved onto Cyrus’s face. Defeating the probe was better than boredom, as it gave him something to do.

  Bring it on.

  Whether Jasper read the thought or not, the man certainly did bring it on. The mind-probe intensified.

  While on the cot, Cyrus frowned. This psi-attack was different from Jasper’s usual method. Usually, the telepath just bored in with a burst of mind-power. This was more concentrated and lasted longer.

  For a moment, he felt bafflement reign in the attacking mind. Then a clot of fury struck.

  Cyrus didn’t have time to cry out, gasp, or wince. He clutched the edges of his cot and strove to defend himself. He blocked, even as he felt his shield slipping. The attacking mind gained ground.

  “No,” Cyrus whispered. He willed everything he had into holding, using his pent-up anger and fear of the BAD THING to fuel his shield.

  In that moment, he received something new. It was a mental image. It showed him a man with an elongated cranium. The man rested his tall forehead and the baan he wore against the amplifying discs.

  What the hell?

  The image faded, but the not the mental attack. Cyrus concentrated, holding the shield. The image… had Jasper just put that in his mind?

  If felt real. What was it? Was that an alien?

  The surprise weakened his shield and the alien gained ground.

  Cyrus nodded grimly. This wasn’t Jasper. An alien attacked his mind. Had the alien been the one to screw with Jasper earlier?

  The alien pressed his advantage and Cyrus’s eyelids grew heavy.

  Is he trying to put me to sleep? Why would an alien attempt that? Maybe because Discovery was decelerating. If the Teleship had made the final shift, they were in the New Eden system. The aliens must want the Teleship for their own. That’s why they’d brought them here.

  Suddenly, the psi-attack ceased.

  Cyrus exhaled and he found that sweat soaked his skin. He was exhausted, as if he’d worked out on Venice’s exercise machine. He lay on the cot, trying to order his thoughts, listing what he knew: