The Deep Dark Well

by Doug Dandridge

  "I have a match on the spacesuit," said the computer, breaking his lustful concentration.

  "Report," he ordered.

  "Late Twenty-first century commercial deep space explorer," said the computer. "High probability of occupation as Kuiper Belt or Ort Cloud explorer."

  "From Sol," exclaimed Watcher, "before the race expanded out of the System."

  "Affirmative," agreed the computer.

  "She must be preserved," Watcher stated. "Control panel front."

  “She is not currently in your territory,” said the computer.

  “Do we have a local gate open in that region?”

  “Negative. All local gates to that territory have long been sealed.”

  “How fast can we get some agents there by tram?”

  “Approximately distance 770,000 kilometers along the arc,” replied the computer. “Eight hours travel time.”

  Damn, thought Watcher. It had always been intended for people to go from one part of the station to another by gate, instantaneous travel. The tram system had been built for short-range transport, and emergencies. But that was all he had at the current moment.

  The virtual screen closed to a meter square as the virtual panel expanded in front of Watcher. Six fingered hands of more than human dexterity flew over the virtual touch panel, sending commands to Donut components to execute his orders faster than he could have sent by voice alone. The last virtual button pushed, he stepped back and sat on his soft bed, looking at the newly expanded screens that ranged the room, observing his mechanical minions as they hurried to fulfill his wishes. Soon, he thought, and I will have company, real live company for the first time in ages. Visitors used to come frequently, in millennia past, but Watcher had felt more in the way of fear for his safety in those days than loneliness. Time had changed the magnitude of the feelings, and he had to admit that the woman fascinated him, a beauty from the days before humankind stretched its hands to the stars.

  * * *

  An hour of crying got it out her system, at least enough where she could function. Pandi looked around once again, taking in her surroundings with her mind now set on survival. She meant to land on her feet, no matter where she landed. And the wonders there must be to behold. She felt almost like a child given the keys to the toy store.

  What about the employees of the store? she thought. Were there any? And where were they? They might not like her poking her nose around, the unsupervised primitive. This place had an uninhabited feel about it, but there was no use in taking chances.

  How much of her suit and equipment to keep? She didn’t relish the thought of trying to move around in a one gee field wearing the heavy space suit. She also didn’t relish the thought of leaving behind anything that might make a difference in her survival.

  Pandi stripped from the heavy survival suit, unbuckling buckles and unzipping zippers. She took quick stock of the utility of her undergarment. It was of tough synthetics, and the black fabric would keep her reasonably comfortable in most environments. It covered her limbs and torso, and the built in stockings covered her feet. She took off the gloves, thinking they might be more of a hindrance.

  The outer belt of the suit was adjusted quickly to fit her slim waist, and the holsters and magazine pouches were a comfortable weight. The water bottle came easily out of a zipper pouch of the suit, and would serve well as a canteen until something better was found. She inventoried the med and repair kits, and anything not of use was left behind. The useful contents she put in the holding pouch that had been attached to the suit’s backpack unit.

  She separated the boots of the suit from its legs and fitted them on her feet. A few steps showed that they would serve to protect her feet, and she liked the thought of keeping the extras built into the boots with her. The helmet was the last thing she was determined to keep, not wanting to leave behind its sensors, lights and electronics. And she could use it to carry things as well.

  On last thought she detached the backpack unit, unbuckling it from its mounts and attaching the straps. The O2 bottles went to the floor, until all she had left was the propulsion unit and the fuel cells. The straps went over her shoulders as she adjusted it for comfort, folding the control arms back into the unit.

  She stowed the rest of the suit under the bench. No use leaving the thing out where any passerby could see it. Jacking rounds into the chambers of the pistols, she holstered them again and prepared to explore. Where to? she thought. So many choices.

  The entrances to the low buildings, the ones with the look of subway stations? That is where she thought most of the people who came through here would go. Why not? She walked into the entrance and down the steps.

  * * *

  The flagship Orca shut down its space warping engines as it came to a rest in relativistic space once again. Space was no longer being destroyed to the front of the massive warship, nor created to the rear, the space cycling drive offline for the first time in weeks. Within seconds a dozen more huge vessels slid into place in a distant circle around the flagship, negative matter pylons using magnetic tractor beams to pull the thin shielding of anti-gravity generating material back into the dual storage bottles.

  The huge vessels sat motionless in space, seven burning stars to its front, the nearest, an M5 red dwarf, over eighty billion kilometers off the port bows. Weapons systems were off line, the leaders expecting no threat so far out of the Supersystem, as antimatter conversion engines powered down from the immense energy requirements that had been provided for the warping of space.

  "Admiral," said the captain of the Orca to his superior, both men still moving stiffly from the effects of the cryotanks all had emerged from just before the transition to relativistic space, "Nav Computer indicates target dead ahead at two hundred and twenty-four billion kilometers."

  "Coordinates?" asked the tall, cadaverous man in the highly decorated uniform, strutting the Admiral's walk to the rear of the bridge. "Of course," he said with an evil looking smile, "Galactic Standard Coordinates 0 mark 0 mark 0. The center of everything."

  "Yes, sir," agreed the thickly built Captain, Valari Midas, as the screen expanded the view of the object at the center of the system. The ultra-thin ribbon appeared to be in orbit about nothing from here, though both men knew that an object denser than thousands of stars sat in the center of the ribbon.

  The white haired man on the Admiral's walk stared at the ribbon in the distance, the target of this mission that had been so costly to their worlds. His brown eyes squinted and attempted to bring the object into even greater focus, trying to make out details from so far across the matter filled system of multiple stars in orbit around the hole.

  "A great number of systems, indeed, sir," said the captain. "Each star with at least one terrestrial planet, some with over a half dozen."

  "Plus the worlds of the dirty methane breathers," said Admiral Miklas Gerasi. "At least a dozen of those, as well as the filth who live on the couple of hot planets. We will make this system ours, Captain, after we have secured the 'Donut’ and its star spanning technology. Then we shall bring the purifying flame of the Nation of Humanity to these fallen worlds."

  "Truly God has sent us here, captain," he continued as he looked intently at the view screen. "I have heard that man commingles with aliens on many of the worlds ahead, treating with the evil that threatens their very souls."

  "The Donut will be a tough nut to crack, admiral," said the captain, calling up information from his command console. "According to our agents' report we have already lost over a dozen scouts trying to get near it. Automatic defenses, the experts say, though I wouldn't be surprised if sentients weren't still on the structure."

  "Probably damned Maurids," spat the admiral, "the blood thirsty spawn of Satan. Well we didn't bring scouts with us, now did we," he said, looking over at the ship's commanding officer. "We brought thirteen of the most powerful ships in the known Galaxy with us. We are the supreme naval power in this region of space."

  "
And if the Donut," said the captain in a low voice, walking over to where the Admiral paced, "the supreme example of the power of the ancients, turns out to be more than our match?"

  "Why then, my good captain," said Admiral Gerasi, "we tear the system apart if need be, till we find the door that opens up on the Donut, and drop a couple of thousand marines through the wormhole."

  "Signal the fleet, Captain," ordered the flag officer. "We move at maximum accel toward that structure. Plot decel so that we stop approximately four billion kilometers from it. That should be a safe enough distance to scout from, don't you think?"

  "Yes sir," agreed the captain. "At least the reports are that the scouts were still fully operational out to two billion kilometers."

  "Then we move," said the fanatical admiral, “and may the spirit of the righteous Lord move with us."

  The Orca leapt ahead in space, a field of inertia shielding energy springing into existence around the vessel, as she moved at fifty gees accel toward the Donut, the other vessels following in her wake. The men on the bridge continued to walk and talk in a perfect one gee field, a luxury of the ancients that very few worlds still enjoyed.

  * * *

  Watcher sat in his chair, the intruder vessels centered on his projected screen. They moved in deep space, surrounded by the field of stars, one of the orbiting suns providing a back lighting that made the shark shapes appear even more sinister. As long as they kept their distance from the Donut he would not molest them. But he was sure they would do as those had done before them. Move in on the station and try to take its secrets back with them, to whatever system they came from.

  He would then destroy them, with the same technology they came to steal. Their home stars would never hear from them, and maybe that would keep others of their kind from coming here to threaten Watcher.

  He had seen something like these before, though they had been fewer and smaller. They looked more advanced than what had come from the planets of the Supersystem. These looked hyper capable, probably from outside of the multiple star system that made up the local space around the Donut.

  “Computer,” he ordered. “What kind of hyperdrive do those ships carry?”

  “From schematics the probability is a Space Destroying Warp Drive.”

  Idiots, thought Watcher. That type of drive was a hazard to anything in the direct path of the ship, and could be a hazard to the ship itself. A Space Destroying Drive traversed space at a pseudo velocity much faster than light by destroying space in front of the ship, and recreating it to the rear. Anything in the space that was destroyed was annihilated as well. Unless it was a massive object, like a moon, planet or star. Then the ship was obliterated by the energy feedback.

  “Let me know the instant they move into two billion kilometers of the station,” he ordered.

  “The human you asked me to watch has started to move,” said the computer.

  Watcher swore again under his breath. It would have been so much easier if she had just stayed put. There was less likelihood she would have wandered into something dangerous, or attracted his attention. And his attention was something she didn’t want to attract. It would be doubtful if lust or loneliness would blunt his sadistic tendencies.

  “Put her on screen.”

  The woman was dressed differently now, no longer in the bulky suit. The black fabric of her garment fit her tightly, showing off her luxurious curves. Boots were on her feet, and it looked as if she carried some kind of weapons in holsters on her belts. Lasers would fit with her technology, he thought, or maybe even primitive projectile weapons. Not enough to protect her from the terrors roaming the station.

  She moved with a grace that bespoke an athleticism born of health and practice. She looked at everything, her eyes constantly on the move. Intelligent and curious. A fitting companion for him.

  A small, furry bundle jumped into his lap as he watched the object of his infatuation. His hand began to gently stroke the soft fur of the creature. It flicked its tail as a musical purr issued from its throat.

  “You’ve been a good companion, Hannibal,” he said, looking down at the small silky cat. The creature dug its paws into his lap, its solid red eyes looking up into his as it purred its pleasure. “But I need another kind of companionship.”

  Hannibal meowed slightly, the pet sensing the combined excitement and sorrow of its master. Watcher continued to stroke it, his soft hands working the fur of the creature. His hands tensed as something else moved on the screen. Something he had hoped he would not see. A robot, of the kind he used.

  * * *

  Pandi caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. Something in motion among the stillness of the station. Her body tensed as she slowly turned toward the movement, not sure what to expect.

  Some kind of animal was her first thought, as she watched the thing moving in her direction. It was all the way across the long room, a hundred meters or more, and she wasn’t sure if it had even spotted her yet. It behaved as if it hadn’t. Its six legs moved in a most peculiar manner, rotating up and over as the long body slid forward. Not like the movements of a beast.

  Its skin seemed to be made of a series of small scales of equal size. It had no discernible head, just a continuation of the long body. No mouth, no ears. Spots on the forward scales could be eyes, or something else?

  A robot of some kind was her second thought, though like nothing she had ever imagined. She couldn’t guess its purpose from its configuration. Slowly she put the helmet on her head, not wanting make sudden movements that might alarm it. She pushed a button above the faceplate, engaging the helmet sensors. The creature leapt forward in her vision, as the face plate magnified the image.

  Definitely some kind of robot, she thought, wondering if it might be dangerous. On infrared it glowed an even orange color, no apparent power-generating center, as if the entire robot were equally power producing and using. Suddenly her faceplate went blank, opaqued over as if struck by a bright light. That was when she knew she was under attack.

  Chapter 3

  1. God created man, and gave him the Universe to use as he sees fit.

  2. Satan created Nonhumans, to stand against man to contest the mastery of the Universe.

  3. Humans are the perfect creations of God. The defective are touched by Satan and are unworthy of life.

  4. The War between Good and Evil rages on. Mankind, the force of Good, must contain Evil, the soulless ones. Evil is to be destroyed when possible, and not allowed to spread across the glories of the Heavens.

  Edicts of the Nation of Humanity

  “And it will fall upon the children of Man to defeat the hell spawn where ever they may be found.”

  Admiral Miklas Gerasi looked up from his podium to gaze over the gathered off watch crew of the Orca. They filled the huge auditorium that doubled as recreation room, gym and temple. Now it was decked out as a temple, holo walls portraying an exact though smaller replica of the Supreme Temple of Humanity on Drefuss. Scenes of the heroes of humanity, at war with the aliens who stood in the way of humanity’s destiny, adorned the marble of the walls.

  The ceiling stretched a hundred meters above in the simulation. The furnishings were real enough, benches and pews, the altar behind the admiral. A holographic representation of the central home worlds moved in accelerated simulation above the altar. Wasp, Marvel and Warlock, all green and blue worlds, in orbit around the barren super rock of Hulk. The far disk of golden Eternity shone in the near background, while the point of its identical twin, Galactus, was noticeable as the brightest star in the local field. It was also the home of the inhabited worlds of the Nation.

  The upturned faces of the crew betrayed their origins among the many habitable worlds of the Nation, skin tones darker for those of the worlds closer to the stars, builds heavier for those from the more massive planets. The admiral always felt fragile himself when he looked at those from Grimm, Captain America or Ego, some of the bigger worlds. His home planet of Marvel only c
arried a G field of .8. But it carried power beyond its size, as the Capital of the worlds controlled by the Nations of Humanity.

  “We are here, my brothers,” he began in the ritualistic forms of the Church, “to advance the cause of humanity. Although we are a mighty nation among the stars, destined to greatness, to bring the teachings of the Holy Drefuss to our entire supreme race. Although we have the will, and the fortitude to accomplish our task, still our enemies stand before us in their ignorance, delaying the inevitable.”

  He stopped for a second, listening to the chorus of amen’s that echoed through the hall. This was a handpicked crew, determined in their faith. The hundreds of off duty spacemen, the more than a thousand marines, their faces all glowed with the rapture of their faith. They would die to a man or woman for the cause. Nothing would get in their way.

  “But our enemies refuse to see the wisdom of our teachings,” he continued. “The forces of the Kingdom are likely on their way here as we speak, to try and stop us from achieving our goals. They shall not succeed.”

  The image of the home worlds faded out behind him, replaced by the view of what awaited them. The thin silver ring orbited around the point of darkness that was the black hole, the primary star of the system. A slight distortion could be seen at the edges of the blackness, the effect of gravity on the light that bent around the dead stellar mass.

  “The Donut,” he cried to the assemblage, as the men and women stared in fascination at the object. Most had no idea of their destination when they left their double system. The artifact was the object of legend, not believed by many.

  “The largest man-made object in the known Universe. Nine and a half million kilometers in circumference. Three thousand kilometers in width, fifty kilometers thick. An interior space of almost one and a half trillion cubic kilometers.”

  He could see he had their rapt attention now. Fright was evident on some of the faces. How could a dozen battleships with little more than thirty thousand personnel take such a structure, if it were defended?