The Reticuli Deception (Adventures of Hannibal Carson Book 2)

by Alastair Mayer

  “Because they were there first?” Carson hadn’t heard timoans referred to as ‘fuzzies’ before—they weren’t, very—but supposed one derogatory term was as good, or bad, as another.

  “When has that ever stopped us? Let whoever can make best use of a world do so.”

  “And when some advanced aliens come along and decide they can better use of our worlds than us?” Carson said. He shook his head. “That’s the kind of thinking that got us a nuclear war last century. You want that again?”

  “All the more reason to spread out to as many different planets as possible. Besides, the war wasn’t that bad. Most of the dead were Arabs.”

  Carson clenched his fists; that attitude disgusted him. “And Persians, and Indians. And Europeans. Did you forget the nuke that hit Rome?” That may have been targeting the Vatican. It wasn’t clear if that was in retaliation for, or prompted, the nukes which turned much of Mecca into a glassy, radioactive plain. The details were lost. “And what about the deaths from fallout and epidemics? Those weren’t limited to South Asia either.”

  “Relax. I said ‘most’, not ‘all’. And we survived. Hell, we humans wouldn’t be out here yet if it wasn’t for the war.”

  “How do you figure that?” He’d heard the idea before, but didn’t put much stock in it. Technological advance would have happened regardless, and without the negative impact of the war they might be even further ahead.

  “There was no project to develop a warp drive. The original pitch to the funding agencies was to develop a force field which could protect cities, or at least important buildings, from a nuclear blast. That never worked, but they ended up with a way to generate a warp bubble.”

  “Well, that’s one I hadn’t heard before, at least.”

  Vaughan shrugged. “Believe what you like. I believe I’ll have another drink.” He strode over to the autobar and touched a pad, then turned to look at Carson appraisingly while the machine dispensed his drink.

  “But enough about us, Carson. The question is, why are you here, and what do you want?”

  “I told you before. I’m an archeologist. I came to investigate rumors of ruins. Well-founded rumors, as it turns out.”

  “So you said. But why here? Why Zeta Reticuli when there are plenty of incompletely explored archeological sites a few weeks closer to Earth, or to Sawyers?” Vaughan picked up his glass and sipped at it. “There’s something you’re not telling, and that intrigues me. Why do you think you have something to hide, and what is it you’re hiding?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “We have some reason to believe that you’ve interfered with our operations before. Possibly twice. As the saying goes, ‘three times is enemy action’. Are you our enemy, Doctor Carson?”

  “Honi soit qui mal y pense.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “‘Evil to him who thinks evil of me,’ more or less. I’m not your enemy unless you make me one.” Well, that ship had long ago left the spaceport, but there wasn’t any point in revealing that. “And I don’t know what you mean about me having interfered with your operations before.”

  “You’re not familiar with the names Hopkins, or Maynard?”

  “Hopkins? There was a Hopkins on Verdigris about a year back, the tomb-raider who cleaned out my excavation. He interfered with my operation, although he was going by the name of Stephens. I found out his real name later. Was he your guy?”

  “Tomb-raiding isn’t our style,” said Vaughan with a perfectly straight face. It was as well Carson hadn’t been offered a drink; he might have choked on it. “And Maynard?”

  “I’ve never met the man, as far as I know.” Talked to him by radio, perhaps, but never actually met, thought Carson.

  “You have a particularly unsatisfying way of answering questions, Doctor Carson.” Vaughan set his drink down and leaned back against the edge of the counter, his hands beside him.

  “Sorry. My students generally don’t have any complaints, but they ask different questions.”

  Vaughan’s right foot lashed out, catching Carson in the shin before he could react. A spike of pain went through Carson’s left leg and he bent over, pulling up his leg. A cross from Vaughan’s left took Carson on the side of the jaw and he went down, leg and jaw aching. “Wha?” he mumbled.

  “You were starting to annoy me,” Vaughan said, rubbing his knuckles. “I feel much better now.”

  “Gla’ one of uf duv . . . does,” Carson managed. He tasted blood where his teeth had cut the inside of his cheek, and could feel his lip swelling. It could have been worse. Vaughan’s blows had meant to be a lesson; he looked athletic enough to have inflicted worse damage if he’d wanted to.

  Carson had picked himself up and was rubbing his jaw when the ship lurched sideways, accompanied by a loud bang! The lights flickered. His ears popped with a pressure change and he heard the thud-thud-thud of automatic hatches slamming into place. Then the gravity quit and everything felt like it was falling. Well, he thought, I guess that answers the question of where we are. But what just happened?

  Vaughan was obviously wondering the same thing. He’d grabbed a handhold and was yelling into the intercom on the wall. “Report! What was that?”

  “Hull breach,” a voice answered. “Radar didn’t pick up anything. There was an energy surge, like we were hit by some kind of beam weapon. Tripped some of the breakers, we’ll have the thrusters back on line in a moment.”

  “Status?”

  “The breached compartment is sealed. We’re stable for now. No casualties. I’m making for the planet, we need to get back in atmo for evaluation and repairs.”

  “Who attacked us? Was it the pyramid ship?”

  “Unknown. There was nothing on radar. If it was the pyramid they were either stealthed or very far away. Automatic defenses perhaps?”

  “All right. Get us down fast. Evasive maneuvers on the way in, whatever the ship is capable of.” Vaughan slammed the intercom switch off, reaction causing his body to pivot around the handhold so that he faced Carson. His face was a snarl.

  “What do you know about this?” he demanded.

  “No more than you do,” Carson said. “My ship isn’t armed with anything that could do this, and so far I’ve seen nothing to suggest the pyramid builders were hostile.” Carson had been reviewing the possibilities in his mind as he’d listened to the voice on the intercom. “We detected some odd signals when we came into the system. Your man may be right about automatic defenses. We’re obviously in space, but where? And where were we going?”

  “Never mind, that doesn’t matter now,” Vaughan growled.

  The intercom came on again in PA mode. “Thrusters are back on line. Brace for acceleration.” Carson grabbed for a handhold as the deck rose to meet him.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  The Sophie was cruising at ten thousand meters, near the limb of the moon, surveying the craters. Zirth was just showing above the horizon when the flash hit.

  “What was that?” Marten yelled as the screens all flashed and the instruments flickered red. An alarm warble began rising in pitch just as Roberts slapped a hand on the control panel to silence it.

  She rapidly scanned the board, touching controls to initiate diagnostics and reset sensors. The reds, mostly, began to turn back to yellows and greens. “Some kind of EM pulse. Doesn’t read like a nuke or a stellar flare. Matter hitting a warp field, perhaps, but not us.” They weren’t in warp. “Possibly a particle beam weapon, or something like it. That might have been what we almost encountered earlier.”

  “Who is shooting at whom? I thought the Kesh weren’t armed.”

  “They didn’t actually say that, but they know shooting at the Velkaryans won’t get Carson back. Maybe the Velkaryans shot at the Kesh.” She realized as she said it that the EM pulse was probably too powerful to be anything that a ship her size could mount, which was probably also true of the Velkaryans. Unless they’d tapped into the main warp power busses.

  “Or the au
tomated defense systems Ketz spoke of. I think they’re waking up.”

  Unfortunately that made more sense than her theory. Being deep in a system filled with the likes of that was like waking up in a mine field. But if it had fired on the Velk...

  “That’s the bad news,” she told Marten. “The good news is that this may be our opportunity to rescue Carson, if the Velkaryan ship is still in one piece.”

  “How so?”

  “If they’re damaged, they’ll land to assess and make repairs. They won’t be in any shape to go anywhere, and they’ll be distracted.”

  “So, what, we go in with guns blazing and haul Carson out?”

  “Something like that, yeah. But first we need to find them. They can’t be too far away, given the side blast from that beam.”

  “If you say so.” Marten did not look convinced. “Why only the one blast, anyway? And what’s to stop it shooting us too?”

  Roberts turned to look at him and smile, her teeth bared. “I don’t think the systems are at the top of their form. And strap in, you’re about to see what a Sapphire is capable of. Chara was nothing.” She’d pulled some air combat maneuvers back on Chara III to evade missile fire, but that had been over quickly.

  Marten’s eyes were wide and his ears flattened back. “How about I get out and wait for you here?”

  At least this time they had a space suit that fit him, but Roberts wasn’t about to wait for him to don it, she was going to get Hannibal back. “Depends. How long can you hold your breath?”

  “Never mind.” He began tightening the straps on his seat.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Roberts quickly triangulated the data from the probes she’d left in planetary orbit and located the Velk ship. It was re-entering the atmosphere over the northern continent, making a series of irregular S-turns. Evasive maneuvers. Two could play that game, and then some. She tapped in a series of commands, activating software modules that would have no practical use in her routine charter work. Routine, that was a laugh. Panic was the new peaceful. “Okay Marten, it’s going to get a little bumpy. Sorry about that.”

  Marten sighed. “Banzai,” he said resignedly.

  The Sophie accelerated away from the moon at two gees, rotating as it did so while Roberts shifted power from one set of thrusters to another. The net effect was to accelerate in an irregular curve while bringing Sophie’s nose around at sharp angle to her flight path. She kept an eye on the tracking scope, watching the image of the planet come into view. There! She stabbed down on a button. The thrusters cut off a fraction of a second before the warp engaged, also for a fraction of a second, and they were above the planet, just beyond the atmosphere.

  “What—?”

  “Not done yet,” Roberts said, rolling the ship so that the planet was overhead. She shoved the throttle forward, and the Sophie dived toward the planet at three gees.

  41: Escape/Rescue

  Aboard Carcharodon

  “Mignon, take Carson back to his cabin and lock him up. We’ve got other things to deal with,” Vaughan said.

  “That’s the one that got breached.”

  “Damn.” Vaughan darted a look at Carson. “You’re a lucky man. Guess I saved your life.”

  Carson didn’t feel very lucky at all, this wasn’t over yet. “I wouldn’t be on this ship at all if it weren’t for you.”

  “Whatever.” Vaughan turned back to Mignon. “Put him somewhere where he’ll be out of the way.”

  The man grabbed Carson roughly and hustled him down the corridor. Carson wondered where he’d end up; this ship wasn’t a lot bigger than the Sophie.

  The answer was soon coming. Mignon opened a small door marked “Stores,” revealing a space about the size of a small closet, lined with storage compartments. “In here,” he said, shoving Carson in. The door closed behind him, and he heard the click of a lock.

  There was just enough room to let Carson bend his knees to a crouch, although he couldn’t quite reach the lowest level of compartments. In the dark, Carson began working by feel to carefully open each compartment in turn and explore its contents. Something felt like wire or cables by his left knee. There were tools of some kind in the one above that, and something that might be a roll of duct tape. He opened and closed doors in turn, working his way up. It was almost impossible to tell what some of the contents were, beyond being random rectangular packages sealed in plastic.

  There was something cylindrical in the one he’d just opened, perhaps twenty centimeters long and two in diameter. A flashlight? He felt around for a switch and, finding a button on top, clicked it on, dazzling himself for a moment. At least now he could see what he was doing.

  He looked around at the lockers and drawers in his little cell. They were only labeled with letters and numbers, not descriptive tags. Carson opened a couple that he hadn’t identified before. Oh ho, so that’s what that was; one he’d thought was beverage packs turned out to be containers of hydraulic fluid. It was a good thing he hadn’t been thirsty. On the other hand, hydraulic fluid. This had all kinds of potential for trouble. He grinned widely, ignoring the throb of his cut lip.

  He’d gone through only half the storage compartments when he felt the ship’s motion change, and heard a rumble below him as of landing gear extending. They’d be down soon. He moved more quickly, pocketing several items and then beginning to work on a device he had set on an opened drawer. It was awkward in the tight space, but he could manage.

  They hadn’t locked him in the armory, but this was almost as good; it was amazing what you could do with self-heating food packages if you knew how. He opened another compartment and found a survival kit. Jackpot! He flipped open its cover. Among other things, it contained a food-can sized package: a self-deploying tent. Carson felt his grin widen. This was almost going to be fun.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Aboard Sophie

  “What are you doing?” Marten said from between clenched teeth, fighting the gee force.

  “Forced orbit. Going round the back, going to come in out of the sun. By pushing down with the thrusters, we can orbit faster.”

  The high-gee, forced maneuvers would also make it more difficult for any hypothetical defense system to track her, or so she hoped. The occasional sub-millisecond warp jump would clinch that; she was untraceable while moving faster than light. It was hard on the ship’s systems, though, pulsing the power demand like that. It took more energy to initiate a warp field than to maintain it. The fusion unit couldn’t keep up with it for long, so she was tapping into the special antimatter unit. Again, not something it was really designed for, but at least it could keep up. She hoped.

  They were around the planet now. She ran a scan. Yes, the Velk ship was still emitting signals. She pinpointed it. All right, up-sun from there would be . . . she touched the controls and lined the Sophie up for the de-orbit burn. Three, two, one . . She throttled up again and the Sophie plowed into the atmosphere.

  As the orange re-entry glow enveloped the ship and the gee forces dropped back to saner levels, Marten eased his vice-grip on the chair arms and unclenched his teeth. “Is this where you tell me what we’re going to do when we land?” he asked, a hopeful tone in his voice.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  The Carcharodon was on the ground now. Carson had felt the thumps of landing several minutes ago, and he hastened to finish his makeshift escape package, accidentally spilling some of the hydraulic fluid. He hoped it hadn’t leaked under the door; a pool of fluid on the floor might tip them off.

  Surely someone would show up any time now to move him back to his original cabin. The breach wouldn’t matter if they weren’t flying, and he didn’t imagine it could be big enough to escape through. Or perhaps they were happy to let him stay locked in here out of the way and they wouldn’t come until they needed something from this storage bay. He was ready now; the longer they took, the less edge he’d have, and the less distracted they’d be by whatever had happened to the ship.

  He heard the
thumps of hatches opening and closing and the sounds of someone working on ship’s frame, together with the occasional shouted command from Vaughan or a reply from somebody else. Come on, he willed, somebody come and open the door!

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  The Sophie glided through the atmosphere in a series of gentle S-curves, both to shed velocity and confuse anyone tracking them from above. On one screen a magnified image showed the Velkaryan ship ahead of her, parked in an open field covered in sparse, straggly vegetation, like dried grass. Two figures were outside, examining a large burn mark on the hull. She wasn’t worried about them looking in her direction, all they’d see would be the glare of Zeta 1 Reticuli.

  Marten interrupted her thoughts. “Uh, Jackie? Shouldn’t you be turning on the engines about now?”

  “No. I don’t want them to hear us.”

  “But . . .”

  “With a good landing spot and a bit of headwind, I could dead-stick the Sophie all the way to the ground,” Jackie said.

  “It’s the ‘dead’ part that worries me.”

  “Relax. This will work.” At least, I hope so. “You have your weapons?” Once their flight path had smoothed out after entry, Marten had gone back to the arms locker to get the gear they’d need.

  “Yes. And the retro-pack. I’m not looking forward to this; the idea of a timoan skydiving is ludicrous.”

  “It’s not skydiving, you won’t have a parachute.”

  “And that somehow makes it better?” Jackie wasn’t familiar enough with timoan vocal range to tell if that rising note was impending hysteria or not. Marten always came through in the end, she suspected some of his protests were part of an act.

  The retro-pack was a rocket pack, part of a bailout and reentry kit a ship’s crew-members could use if for some reason the ship were too damaged to survive reentry itself. In this case it would brake Marten’s descent at ground level so that he’d be away from the Sophie when she landed. Surprise and speed, it all depended on surprise and speed.