The Captain gestured impatiently. “Yes, yes. You’re right, of course, but we already know that ship is undergoing the same sort of change Surveyor Two went through, and you’ve already got the LPSL people raising hell about you interfering in alien cultures.” His fingers beat a tattoo on his desk. “No. I’ve another idea. Your last little scrape has set off another round of complaints. Here’s what I need you to do: program the recorders once Regidur and your people have made them resistant to this agent.” He held Harry’s gaze. “Then we’ll get the Emden to plant them. She has strike craft capable of delivering them, and you can manipulate them from here.”
Harry hesitated. “It will need the ship’s remote vehicle controls to do it, sir.” He paused. “I can do it, but how will we ensure Dr. Palmer and the LPSL don’t learn of it?”
The Captain smiled with a devious glint in his eye. “By getting them to help us do it in the name of making sure it complies with their Protocol. That ought to do it!” The Captain laughed. “Leave the doctor to me.”
“I’m certainly happy to do that, sir. He has tried my patience to the limit, I must admit.”
“I’m aware of that, and you make no effort to hide your contempt for him or his pet ideology. It’s not helping the situation, Lieutenant Heron.”
“I understand, sir. My apologies, sir. I shall endeavour to modify my attitude toward him, but he makes no attempt to be civil either.”
“I know, and I appreciate that is difficult for you, but you are above his behaviour. You’re a Fleet officer, Mr. Heron. I expect better of you.” Wolf Kretzmann paused. “Any more contact with the Siddhiche?”
Harry knew that the Captain was right, and his own sense of honour and proper behaviour made the criticism worse. “I shall not let you down, sir.” He rubbed his temple ruefully. “After the last contact, I hope they find a different way next time.” He hesitated. “But I understand that Dr. Borner’s people have found that some of their files have been accessed, and some new, very detailed ones have been added to their database.” He grimaced. “Dr Palmer is quite excited about them – he says it is a completely new field.”
“Okay, have a word with them and see what it is and what they make of it. Any idea as to what these extra files have in them?”
“As I understand it, sir, it’s some very strange DNA code. Dr Borner’s team are working on analysing it.”
“Good. Update me when you can. Now, better get cracking on those remote video recorders. See the Commander—he’ll organise the transfer of the kit to Emden. Perhaps Regidur would enjoy making that delivery.” His smile widened. “He can make sure the LPSL people don’t get ideas. One more thing: I’d appreciate your finding Dr. Palmer and asking him to see me at his earliest convenience.”
Harry stood and saluted. “It will be a pleasure, sir.”
“The Emden’s strike craft has positioned the video drones, Harry. He’s clearing the area and heading back to his barn.” The Commander leaned back and chuckled. “Looks like he’s taking the LPSL man with him. Time to do your stuff, I think.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Harry was already seeking the individual drones on the Beagle’s sensors. “Ready, Beagle? Good. Let us begin.”
“Which do you wish to move first, Harry?”
Time seemed to stand still as Harry worked the drones into vantage points on the hulk: inside its hangar, into the crew and technical spaces and finally into the Command Centre. It took longer than he’d anticipated as the protective coating affected the manoeuvring abilities of the drones, and he had to take them one at a time. The dozen units had to be placed strategically within the hulk, and some needed more effort than others to reach their desired position.
He was feeling extremely tired, very hungry and his throat was dry as he stretched in his chair. “Thank you, Beagle. Please keep your monitors active on all of the drones.”
“Already activated, Harry.”
Harry nodded unconsciously. “Good. Now I need something to eat and drink. How long did it take? It feels like forever!”
“Six hours. The Commander is waiting for you.”
“Six hours!” Harry shook himself. “No wonder I’m tired. Where is the Commander?”
“At the spare workstation behind you.”
Harry turned. “Placements complete, sir.”
“So I see.” The Commander peered at Harry. “You look done in. I think we can look after this for a bit. Go and get a meal and some rest. I’ll alert you if anything happens.”
Harry stood. “Thank you, sir. I need some food.” He frowned as a thought occurred to him. “Have the LPSL noticed the drones changing position?”
The Commander smiled. “Not yet, and if they do, the Captain and I have agreed to blame it on whatever has taken over that ship.” He chuckled. “They won’t be able to blame you—you weren’t anywhere near them!”
Dr. Palmer glared across the table. He appeared to be about to launch into yet another tirade, but with a visible effort, restrained himself. “So you’re telling me the video drones have been drawn into or onto the derelict? How could that happen? They were placed at a safe distance from it!”
“I’m afraid your guess is as good as anyone’s, Doctor. All we know is some are now inside it and the others seem to have been attached to the hull.” The Commander shrugged. “We are able to monitor them for the moment, and I’m sure Mr. Heron can arrange for the video to be relayed to your workspaces.”
The doctor glared at Harry. “Yes, well, we’d better have it then. The video might enable us to prevent any further interference with these people.” He paused. “These Siddhiche, why do they only contact you? Why are they hiding from the Protector?”
“I don’t know, Doctor. All I do know is that they are very powerful and have, in some way, affected both the Lacertians and the Canids. I believe they may have had something to do with the manner in which the genetic manipulations Ferghal and I were subjected to have affected our links. What their motives are in this or anything else, I do not know.” He offered a conciliatory smile. “I do not find it pleasant to be a pawn in someone else’s game, sir, but that is how it feels to me at present.” He hoped Palmer picked up on the subtext of what he was really saying.
The doctor frowned, evidently torn between challenging him and accepting that Harry was speaking the truth. “Yes, well, I expect not, but it’s very strange behaviour. How can we assess their culture if they won’t approach us or let us see them?”
“Perhaps because they already have what they need from us.”
“This ship can see them with its ordinary scanners, but the Protector can’t, even though it’s fitted with a specially developed high-power system. I find that very strange—in fact, it suggests the Protector’s systems are being deliberately jammed.”
“That sounds as if you’re accusing us or our escorts, Doctor.” The Commander’s voice was icy, and his face betrayed his annoyance.
“Well, someone is jamming our equipment,” Dr. Palmer snapped.
“It could be the Siddhiche, sir,” Harry interjected, causing both men to look at him. “We know two of them are aboard this ship. Beagle has confirmed it. Others could have boarded the Protector and any of the other ships.”
Dr. Palmer snorted. Despite assurances to the contrary, he was still convinced the language files he’d been given had been planted, taken from a source the Fleet wished to conceal. “We have only your word for that!”
Before anyone could respond, Palmer’s tablet self-destructed as they watched in horrified fascination. Then, the holo display blanked, and a glowing figure appeared above the table. Harry’s temples throbbed as code flashed through his eyes, but Regidur’s translator crackled into life. “You are a danger to all. We have disabled the LPSL ship Protector.”
The glowing figure vanished.
“I think we’ve just been told in no uncertain terms,” said the Commander, wondering if everyone else had seen the same image. He glanced at Harry, who had slumped in
his seat, and then he caught Dr. Palmer’s eye. “Any more questions, Doctor?” He waited as the white-faced scientist fumbled for speech. “No? Very well. Regidur, please help Mr. Heron to the surgeon.” His eyes scanned the group. “I think we have just confronted one of the Siddhiche, or perhaps been confronted by one. I don’t think I want to do it again in a hurry. Next time they might not be quite so accommodating.”
“Right, Mr. Heron, you say the Siddhiche have given you new instructions.”
“Yes, sir. They want me to take Dr. Palmer or one of his team to the small moon that the derelict ship is sharing an orbit with. They will protect us with a shield so we can board the Niburu ship safely and anonymously.”
The Captain stared into the viewing screen for what seemed like a very long time. “Just like that? Why? What do they want you to see? Why Palmer? I’d have thought he would be the last person you’d want to have along.” He turned to meet Harry’s eyes. “How do you know they want you to take him?”
Harry had been expecting this. He wasn’t keen on having Palmer on an expedition like this either. As things stood, he had been avoiding Harry since the incident in the conference room, and so had his companions. “I believe they want him to see first-hand what he will bring about if the LPSL persists in its actions, sir.” He tried to think of a way to explain how he’d come by these instructions from the Siddhiche. It wasn’t easy. “You know the translator device Regidur uses, sir? It is in some way linked to the Provider on Lycania, which is the brain, so to speak, that the Siddhiche had a hand in creating on that planet.” He paused, noting the Captain’s frown. “I think the Siddhiche are speaking to the Provider, and it is speaking to me, sir. This message came from Lycania. Both Regidur and Sci’antha heard it.”
“So this Provider is listening to everything that happens aboard this ship?”
“I don’t know with any certainty, sir, but I would think it probable.” Harry hesitated. “I can think of no other way the Siddhiche could have been alerted to our contact. I checked the coordinates we were heading toward after our evasion of the Niburu ship. They correspond to an area where some very unusual energy signals are originating.”
“Hmm…very well, then, speak to the Commander, and then to Dr. Palmer. That stunt with the tablet has shaken him badly. How did you do that?”
“I?” Harry frowned. “I didn’t, sir. I think the Siddhiche attempted to use it to project something, and the circuitry failed. I believe the people seated near Dr. Palmer all reported some damage to their tablets.”
“So I hear. Okay, better get cracking. If the doctor agrees with this mad scheme, I’ll talk to you both about how we can execute it successfully. If he refuses, we’ll leave it at that. I’m still not convinced we should attempt this, even with the Siddhiche providing protection. It’s not only risky—it’s damn near suicidal.” The Captain frowned. “I’m not about to put one of my officers in the firing line simply on the whim of an alien race who could, for all I know, be as big a threat as this Niburu they don’t seem to like. Talk to Palmer, and I’ll discuss it with Captain Greenway and the Commander, and take advice on it from Command.”
Ferghal relaxed into his favourite armchair in the Wardroom lounge. It had been a long but satisfying day. He was overseeing the installation of the hyperdrives in a new destroyer, and it was going to be a real beauty. He missed Harry. They’d not been apart for more than a few days since their childhood, other than their enforced separation on Planet Lycania when Ferghal was imprisoned in the Consortium base, and Harry took shelter with the Canids.
And now, they were on opposite sides of the galaxy, and it felt very strange.
He accepted the drink the android steward brought him and nodded his thanks, not pausing to wonder how the SU had known what he wanted. The SUs seldom needed telling these days, and the new ship, now named Athenia, had expressed her delight at being able to read his thoughts and act on his instructions or guide the installation teams to get it right.
Sipping his drink, he stretched his legs and eased his back into the upholstered chair. Damn, he thought, that’s what I miss—being able to talk to Harry through the AI when we’re on the same ship.
“But you can still do that, Ferghal,” said the soft voice in his thoughts, and it startled him. It took him a moment to realise that the Dock AI was speaking to him through his cyber link.
“But I can’t use the hypercoms without authority.”
“Why not? We are all permanently linked. Would you like me to check whether your friend Harry is available? I can ask Beagle what he’s doing.”
Ferghal hesitated. It would be nice to communicate to Harry, there was so much to share, and Harry’s letters were always a treat, unlike his own stilted efforts. “But doesn’t that use the hypercoms? And I don’t want him to know everything in my head — or I his!”
“A section dedicated to data transfer, yes, and your programming will not use a fraction of the transfer band. If you use only your speech centres, that is all I will transfer, and I will pass that protocol to Beagle.”
“Then let’s try it.” Ferghal glanced round the near empty lounge. “What must I do?”
“I will check with Beagle to locate Harry. You need do nothing more than you did when you were both on the same ship.”
Ferghal took a long pull on his drink, and suddenly he heard Harry.
“Ferghal? By all that’s wonderful! Where are you? You’ve not slipped aboard Beagle, we’ve had no new company since the Emden and her consorts arrived.” He hesitated. “I thought for a moment you were yet another attempt to hack my link, another of the pestilential League tricks.”
Resisting the urge to laugh out loud, Ferghal replied, “Harry, what devilment have you found this time? No, I’m comfortably on my building dock living the life of Riley in the lap of luxury, and workin’ with a honey of a destroyer named Athenia. What are you doing? Your friends in the LPSL seem annoyed with you, as usual, and now you say they attempted to hack your link?”
“Yes, they attempted — but their hacker will not trouble me in future, I can assure you, but that’s all I can say about it.” Harry paused then added jauntily, “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies!” He laughed at his comment, and once again Ferghal had to restrain the urge to chuckle, as that would’ve drawn the attention of the few remaining officers in the Wardroom, who would’ve thought he’d gone mad, sitting there grinning to himself. He countered with, “Aye, aye, sir!”
Harry chuckled. “On to more serious matters. How have you gained permission for private use of the hypercoms?”
“Well,” said Ferghal, “you know how the ships share data all the time, so the Swann Dock linked us through the data transfer.” He hesitated. “At least I think that’s what she’s done. Now, how are you doing, my friend, and what alien beasts have you found this time?”
Ferghal felt Harry’s amusement. “Possibly the largest and ugliest looking ships yet — when we can see them — and a beautiful planet nearly devoid of living creatures. Oh, and another with one half torn asunder, and the other side looking as if it has been shattered by the transfer of force. In short, we have found a mystery. One moreover that is not very pleasant from any aspect.”
“But you’re safe and healthy? No trouble with that LPSL lot you have aboard, other than the hacking attempts?”
Once again, Ferghal sensed amusement in Harry’s reply. “There have been moments, my friend. There have certainly been moments.” Harry paused. “But we go well, and very interesting it is too — we have a ship full of people with the interest of the Reverend Mr Bentley on Spartan in their fields.”
“That will keep you busy then.” Ferghal saw one of his fellow officers approaching. “I am wanted, I think. Perhaps now that we know the ships can link us like this, we can talk more frequently.”
“Definitely! This is a great pleasure.” Harry paused. “I’ve missed your company, my friend, more than anything.”
“More than that of a cert
ain lady?” Ferghal teased. “I doubt it!”
Captain Greenway was brisk when the meeting commenced. “We’re getting some reinforcements: three star ships and their escort groups. Someone’s taking this seriously, it seems.” He paused. “FYI, the Advocate Admiral has filed charges of espionage against the crew of the LPSL Protector and key members of their board for trying to hand over our signal codes and encryption keys — the package we recovered from the lifepod.”
“That’s a relief—both ways,” Captain Kretzmann interjected. “Maybe the damn fools will back off now. I expect it’s taken this long to get the ships back up to operational strength.”
“You’re probably right,” Captain Greenway said, followed by a pause before he added, “Now, you’d best fill me in on this plan to land a party on the moon so they can get close enough to board the mother ship when it comes back. I’m not happy about that part of it, but if you think they can pull it off, I’ll support your decision.”
An awkward group assembled in Beagle’s hangar. The small shuttle, still referred to as a launch in Fleet terminology, stood ready to receive them. At the last minute, Dr. Palmer had decided not to accompany the party himself and had sent an eager young research assistant in his place.
“The Doctor thinks it will be better if I go and he monitors what I am recording and seeing,” said Anton Du Bois, so eager that he practically gushed. “This way, if there are any scripts or glyphs visible, plus any audio, he can start work on deciphering it immediately. This will enable us to communicate with them properly.”
“I see.” Harry checked the young man’s EVA suit. He didn’t believe the doctor’s reasons for sending a junior member of his team, but this was not the time to argue about it. In fact, ever since the confrontation with the Siddhiche in the conference room, Dr. Palmer had been remarkably restrained in his dealings with Harry and his team. “Right, Mr. Du Bois, you have all the recording equipment you need?”
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