Deathstalker Rebellion

by Simon R. Green

"It's not just me, Captain. People have been hearing things for days. On all the comm channels, from the main hailing frequencies to private cabin-to-cabin channels. There are voices where there shouldn't be; whispering, muttering, just clear enough to spook people with what they can make out. There's nothing wrong with the comm equipment. I've checked it every way I can, and it all checks out one hundred per cent. Then I thought someone was playing tricks, but if they are I can't catch them at it, and I know all the tricks in the book. So I checked with other people, and that's when I found out this has been going on for days, ever since we started approaching the edge of the Rim.

  "And it's not just voices. It's like we're being watched, all the time, and I don't mean the security cameras. We're used to them. It's more like… there's someone else in the room with you, even when there isn't. It's like someone's standing over your bed when you're sleeping, watching and waiting. There's a constant feeling that something's wrong, something we should be doing, something important and vital…"

  "Night terrors aren't exactly unknown, out here on the Rim," Silence said carefully. "The Darkvoid's still pretty much a mystery. We don't know how much close proximity to it affects the mind, and one way or another we've all spent a lot of time exposed to it recently."

  "That's what I thought, at first," said Cross. "It's what we all thought. This phenomenon's been reported before by other ships out on the Rim who've stayed out here too long. Seeing things, hearing things, feeling things. It's usually written off as cabin fever. The doc hands out industrial strength tranquilizers, and that keeps people quiet until they've left the Rim. But I've been running some more detailed checks. When I reran the bridge tapes, according to my instruments at the times I was hearing the voices, there were no signals coming in. No signals at all."

  Silence raised an eyebrow at that. "Some form of esp communication?"

  "Not according to the ship's esper, Captain. If there were any psionic forces on board apart from himself, or even in the vicinity, he'd know. And there's more. It's… difficult to record these voices. They don't always come through clearly enough to make an impression. But during the time you were gone from the bridge, I picked up a whole group of voices, and managed to record them. Listen."

  He turned back to his console and tapped in a command. A loud hissing filled the air, as static seeped from the main address speakers. Silence frowned, straining his ears against the white noise of the static. He could see everyone else on the bridge was listening, too, their faces taut with suspense and barely hidden fear. Silence's gut tightened again. What could be so scary about a few voices? And then a voice rose out of the static, cold and dead, but very determined to be heard.

  "It's dark, here. Here, the birds burn."

  There was a pause, and then more voices came, one after the other, different voices, slow and halting but all driven by some desperate need to be heard.

  "Help me. Help me. There's something holding my hand, and it won't let go."

  "It's coming. It's coming your way, and you can't stop it."

  "Something's watching you from behind your mirrors."

  "Listen to me! Listen to me! There are dead hands beating on your walls!"

  "They're coming. They're coming out of the dark in a dead ship."

  The last voice broke off abruptly, and then there was only the hissing of static on the speakers. Cross turned them off, and looked back at Silence.

  "Whatever this is, it's getting worse. These are the clearest recordings so far. I tried computer enhancements on the earlier recordings, but it didn't help. Almost as though the computer couldn't hear them. I hadn't realized how widespread the problem was till I started asking around. I don't think anyone did. They all thought it was just them, going crazy."

  "Is what we just heard typical of what the voices are saying?" said Silence.

  "Pretty much. They all make a kind of sense, but what they mean is anyone's guess."

  "What do you think they are?" said Silence.

  Cross's features tightened, but his gaze was level, and when he spoke his voice was carefully flat and calm. "I think they're voices of the dead, Captain. Desperately trying to reach us, to warn us about… something. Some members of the crew I talked to claim to have recognized particular, familiar voices. All of them people they knew to be dead. Friends and relatives, precious ones long gone. I heard my grandfather. He was part of the crew on the starship Champion when it disappeared out on the Rim over a hundred years ago. Now we're here, in the same sector, and it's starting again. Voices of the dead, desperately trying to communicate, to make us understand before it's too late. And before you say anything, Captain, yes I do know how this must sound. But we've all heard these voices. Haven't you heard anything, Captain, felt anything strange in the long hours of the night?"

  "No," said Silence. "I can't say I have." He looked at Frost, and she shook her head sharply. He looked to his other side. "Stelmach?"

  "I'm not sure," Stelmach said slowly. "I saw my father, but I thought that was just dreams. And once, when I woke up in the early hours of the morning, I thought I felt my sister's presence. Standing over me, protecting me from… something."

  "All right," said Silence. "Let's not get carried away here. I have no doubt this phenomenon is real, but whatever it is you're hearing, it's not the dearly departed dropping in for a chat. Much more likely it's some form of psionic communication we haven't encountered before, that your minds are interpreting as voices and feelings. There was a report filed a few years back, which most of you are supposed to have read, about the possibility of new forms of life appearing in the Darkvoid. The report's author believed there could be creatures living in the endless dark, in the gulfs between the frozen planets. A new kind of life, made possible by the unnatural conditions in the Darkvoid. And if that doesn't grab you, try this. How about some subtle form of alien attack? We're expecting the new alien ships to come through the Darkvoid to reach us. This could all be nothing more than some new kind of psionic weapon, designed to scare and confuse us. And doing a pretty good job, from the look of you."

  Silence looked around the bridge and could see the new ideas taking root. People were starting to look at each other, smiling and relaxing as they considered the new ideas and found they liked them. They began to murmur among themselves and sit back in their chairs, the fear and uncertainty visibly dropping away from them. Even Cross was nodding, agreeing. Silence let them talk and laugh for a few minutes before restoring bridge discipline.

  "Activate the long-range sensors, Cross," he said finally. "If there is an alien ship out there somewhere, hiding in the Darkvoid, I want to know about it."

  Cross nodded quickly and bent over his station, powering up the long-range sensors. He hadn't been using them automatically because of the vast amounts of power they burned up, but theoretically they could detect a grain of sand half a light-year away, and tell you what it had for breakfast. Silence sat back in his command chair and let Cross get on with it. The odds were he wouldn't find anything, but just operating the long-range sensors for a while should help the crew feel better and more secure.

  "I'm almost disappointed," Frost said quietly. "So much fuss over a few night terrors. They'll be wanting someone to hold their hands when they cross the road next."

  "We don't all have your icy nerves, Investigator," said Silence. "And dealing with the crew's problems—real or perceived—is part of my job. Still, it's interesting that you and I never heard these voices."

  "Our minds are a lot more… disciplined than they used to be," said Frost. "Perhaps we've become harder to fool."

  "Perhaps. Either way, I'll let Cross run the sensors for a few more minutes, and then…"

  "Unidentified ship, Captain!" said Cross suddenly. "Only just in range, but it's coming straight at us at one hell of a speed."

  "Yellow Alert," said Silence. "Look sharp, people. Cross, put it up on the viewscreen."

  "It's still in the Darkvoid, sir," said Cross. "We won't see
it for a while yet."

  "Could it be an alien ship?" asked Frost.

  "Unknown, Investigator," said Cross. "But at the speed it's moving, it'll be here soon."

  Silence studied the darkness on the viewscreen, carefully keeping his face calm and unmoved. His crew chattered around him on the bridge, powering up the ship's weapons and shields. People were reporting in from all over the ship as they took up attack positions. Silence smiled slightly. The doom and the gloom on the bridge had completely vanished. The unknown ship might be a threat, but it was a threat the crew understood.

  "The ship's slowing, Captain," said Cross. "I think it knows we're here. It's almost at the edge of the Darkvoid. We should have it on the screen any moment…"

  He broke off as the ship appeared on the viewscreen, came to a full stop just beyond the Rim. It was a simple metal sphere, bristling with instruments, mute and menacing. It was also very familiar, and quite definitely human.

  "Getting details now, Captain," said Cross. "It's an Empire starcruiser… class C." He looked back at Silence, surprised, before checking his instruments again. "There hasn't been a class C ship in Service since the beginning of the century. Its shields are down, but it's making no attempt to contact us. I'm using the standard hailing frequencies, but there's no response. It looks to be in good condition; no obvious signs of damage."

  "Could it be a pirate ship?" said Stelmach.

  "Doubtful," said Frost. "They wouldn't be caught dead in a ship as slow as that. A pirate's career depends on being able to outrun his pursuers. But if that is an Empire ship, what the hell is an old crock like that doing out here on the Rim?"

  "Maybe it's a ghost ship," said Silence, and regretted the word ghost the moment he said it. He didn't need to look around to feel the tension rising on the bridge again. "Cross, there should be an identification number on the ship's hull. Find it and check it against records. See if you can put a name to it."

  "Already have, sir." The Communication Officer's voice was high and thin. "It's the Champion. My grandfather's ship. Reported lost with all hands, one hundred and seven years ago."

  "That's impossible," said Silence numbly. "I remember the story. Whatever happened to the Champion is one of the fleet's great unsolved mysteries. But its last reported position was halfway across the Empire from here. How did it end up in the Darkvoid?"

  "A good question, Captain," said Frost. "Another might be: who's running the ship now? It was moving under its own power through the Darkvoid, but someone brought it to a halt here, facing us. And, since they must know we know there's someone on board, why aren't they talking to us?"

  "It has to be a trap of some kind," said Stelmach. "Could it be an alien ship, disguised?"

  "It's not a holo image," said Cross. "Exterior is exactly what it should be."

  "Alien or not," said Silence, "I'd say the odds are extremely good that this ship is the source of the unsettling phenomena you've all been experiencing. The ship's appearance could be a part of that. Psychological warfare. Cross, take us to Red Alert. All shields up. If this is a disguised alien ship, it's not going to get the chance to hit us like its brother did over Golgotha. Bring all guns to bear, but nobody fires without my express command."

  There was a hum of new activity as the bridge crew busied themselves. They all remembered how close that other alien ship had come to cleaning their clock permanently. They were looking forward to a little payback. Frost leaned in close beside Silence.

  "I have to say, Captain, that the odds of this being an alien ship are really rather small. All the sensor readings seem to be insisting that the ship facing us is indeed the long-lost Champion."

  "I don't want a panic on my bridge," Silence said quietly. "Personally, I think both chances are equally unlikely. More probably, this is a trap of some kind. Maybe even a first shot from the new rebellion. Either way, I want my people primed and ready to blow the snot out of that ship at the first wrong move. Communications Officer, what readings are you getting now?"

  "Mostly confusing ones, sir," said Cross, scowling down at his panels. "Most of the new ship's systems are down. No defensive shields, no activated weapons… and no life support. No atmosphere and colder than hell. It's just hanging there, dead in the water. I don't even know how it got there. All my instruments seem quite convinced the ship's drive is cold. There's nothing to show it's been used in one hell of a long time."

  "Life-form readings?" said Silence.

  "Not a thing, Captain. Human or otherwise. There's always the chance it could be an old plague ship."

  Silence glared at him. "Ghost ship, plague ship; you're a real cheerful sort to have around, Cross, you know that? We're going to have to take a closer look. Maintain Red Alert, but keep the long-range sensors open. If there's one ship out here, there might be more, and I don't want us getting hit while we're distracted. Investigator, put together an away team. You and I are taking a pinnace over to that ship to see what's what."

  "I suppose I'm wasting my breath in pointing out that as Captain you shouldn't risk your life with an investigating team?" said Frost.

  "You are indeed," said Silence. "Whatever that ship is, I need firsthand information before I can make any decisions. Stelmach, would you care to accompany us?"

  "Not really, no," said Stelmach. "They don't pay me enough to volunteer for missions like this. In fact, they couldn't pay me enough. Have a nice trip, Captain. I'll be right here when you get back."

  "Captain," said Cross. "Permission to join your team. If that really is the Champion, my grandfather's ship…"

  "We won't need a Communications Officer," said Frost.

  "But we might need someone who could tell a fake Champion from the real thing," said Silence. "All right, Cross. You're on the team. Second, you have the bridge again. Let's go, people."

  They crossed over to what might be the Champion in a pinnace; Silence, Frost, Cross, and six security men. They all wore hard suits. The Dauntless's sensors had been quite specific that there wasn't a single life-support system working in the whole ship. Silence patched into the pinnace's sensors through his comm implant and studied the Champion thoughtfully as the pinnace drifted closer. It was as though the bulkhead turned transparent where he was looking, giving him a clear view of the mystery ship. It looked heavy and clumsy, compared to the sleek starcruisers he was used to. The old C class had been something of a compromise between speed and weaponry, that in the end turned out to favor neither. Which was why it had been quickly bested and replaced by the D class. Even so, the Champion was something of a legend in the fleet. She'd been one of the Empire's foremost exploratory vessels, checking out new worlds for alien contacts or colonization, and brought fourteen new planets into the Empire during her short life in the Service. Before she went out to the Rim once too often and was never seen again by human eyes.

  Until now. Silence couldn't help wondering if it was just coincidence that had brought the Champion back at such a volatile time for the Empire. Like a message from the past, when things were different. Silence put the thought aside. He had sworn to serve the Iron Throne, no matter who sat on it, because the Empire must be preserved. All the other choices were worse. Better a corrupt civilization than an Empire shattered and reduced to barbarism. He pushed that thought aside, too, and concentrated on the starship looming up before him, hanging like a great white whale in a dark sea. It grew slowly larger, filling the space between them, so that he could no longer see the Rim or the Darkvoid beyond it. And finally the pinnace drifted to a halt, only a few feet between its hull and the Champion's.

  "Try the hailing frequencies one more time," Silence said quietly, not taking his eyes off the vast white metal wall before him.

  "Still no response, Captain," said Cross after a long moment. "Pinnace sensors confirm no life forms anywhere on the ship."

  "See if you can open the Champion's air lock with a general override signal," said Silence.

  Cross bent over his panels and then shook hi
s head. "No response. All the systems must be down. We're going to have to crack it open manually."

  "No surprises there." Silence closed down his comm link to the sensors, and the pinnace's bulkhead reappeared before him. He looked around at his team one at a time, making eye contact so they could see how calm and assured he was. "All right, people, pay attention. We're going out through the pinnace's air lock in our hard suits. Investigator Frost leading. We're right up against the Champion's air lock, so all we have to do is step outside and open it. Cross will operate the manual override on the outside of the air-lock door, and then the Investigator will enter the lock itself. She will go through alone, to check out the situation. Once she gives the all clear, I want you cycling through that air lock as fast as you can go. There's no telling what shape the mechanism's in after all this time, and I don't want anyone left outside."

  "What if something happens to the Investigator?" said Cross.

  "Then you back off, and the Dauntless blows the Champion to shit," said Frost. "Because if I can't handle it, you sure as hell can't."

  "Once we're inside," said Silence, pressing calmly on as though the interchange hadn't happened, "we will make our way to the bridge and activate what systems we can. Everyone stay together, but don't bunch up. And keep your eyes open. The Champion is to be considered hostile territory until proven otherwise. You are authorized to use lethal force on anything that moves, with the exception of your teammates. So don't get jumpy. Investigator, lead the way."

  Frost nodded and moved over to the inner door of the pinnace's air lock. There was a pause as everyone put on their helmets and made sure the seals were secure, and then Frost opened the inner door and stepped inside, followed by Silence and Cross. The three hard suits filled the air lock from wall to wall. They waited patiently as the air was flushed out, and then Frost opened the outer door. It opened slowly, silently, revealing the Champion's outer hull, only a few feet away. Silence gestured to Frost, and she stepped forward onto the outer edge of the door. She reached out a gloved hand to the small wheel clearly marked on the outside of the Champion's air lock and took a firm hold. Silence moved in beside her to brace her once she started exerting pressure. The pinnace's artificially produced gravity didn't extend beyond the air lock. Her armored glove closed around the wheel and turned it inch by inch. The outer doors of the air lock slowly parted, and a bright light suddenly appeared within the lock. Silence relaxed a little. At least some of the Champion's systems were still working. The doors crept farther apart, until finally Frost was able to step carefully from the Dauntless into the Champion. The doors closed over her again, and Silence could only wait. He could feel her presence through the link they shared, and her calm composure helped to settle him.