White heat flashed in Kelly’s face. For a moment he could hear nothing at all. His fists came up and in an instant he had Lewis pinned against the wall.
But the taunting satisfaction in Lewis’ face dashed cold reason over Kelly. If the captain could get him to strike him, that would undermine the admiral’s charges against Lewis and give the old captain a foothold back into the service. Kelly stepped back, breathing heavily in an effort to master his temper.
“It won’t work, Lewis,” he said. “We haven’t gotten where we are because of special favors or family reputation. You can brood on class differences all day long, but that doesn’t make them a reality. You made the mistake today. I didn’t. That’s all there is to it. I’m sorry you didn’t listen.”
“Go to hell!” said Lewis viciously, and shouldered past him.
Kelly watched him disappear around the curve of the corridor. Only then did he lean against the wall and wipe the perspiration from his palms. He still felt unsteady with anger that burned hot under his rib cage. The old prejudices from the first days of the Fleet had never been eradicated. Up-through-the-ranks officers versus Academy officers. Experience versus training. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, yet it seemed to get worse, to become more bitter, every year.
With a sigh Kelly went off to find his squad.
Looking odd in their civilian clothes, they’d collected in a rec room, where all of the game equipment looked as though it had been disconnected. The air had the stale, too-often-recycled smell of old compressors. Kelly realized for the first time that the Valiant was truly gone, and her newness and beauty with her. His home ... and theirs.
His gaze swept their faces, then he abruptly turned away and dropped into a chair.
Caesar approached him. “Have some coffee, boss. It tastes like heated bilge, but there’s nothing like raw caffeine to put you on the edge.”
Kelly took the cup. “Thanks.”
Except for 41 and Ouoji, who prowled the farthest perimeters of the room like a pair exploring their cage, everyone huddled close to one another in a seating U around a blank game table. The Valiant had been their reference point. Now they looked at Kelly, lost, as though he was all they had left.
“Something wrong, Commander?” asked Beaulieu.
His head came up at the clinical question. “Not beyond the obvious.”
“Did you get that cosquenti Lewis?” asked Phila angrily. “How long do we have to stay on his ship?”
“It’s not his ship any longer. Captain Serula has been placed in charge, and Lewis is on his way back to Station 4.”
Caesar tipped back his head. “There is justice in this galaxy!”
“Good going, Commander!”
“I didn’t do it,” said Kelly sharply, putting his untasted coffee aside. “The admiral tossed him.”
Phila grinned. “Your daddy. Same difference.”
Anger flashed through Kelly, but he curbed it hard. This wasn’t the time to lose his temper. Still, Caesar saw it and elbowed Phila to be quiet.
“So what happens now?” asked Siggerson quietly. “Do we return to the station? West isn’t going to be happy with us, leaving without authority and getting the Valiant blown to bits.”
His voice as he spoke was level and controlled, but his eyes were hard with reproach and blame.
“No, we’re under mission now,” said Kelly, deciding this was as good a time as any to tell them. “The admiral has asked us to assist him.”
“What’s cooking, boss? I smell fish,” said Caesar.
Kelly told them all that he knew. While he was talking 41 wandered back to join the group, standing slightly apart. When Kelly finished, 41 was the first to speak.
“They sound like the Invaders. The Old Ones who raised me spoke of them. But they were said to have been destroyed by the Svetzin.”
“The Svetzin!” said Siggerson in surprise. “That race was extinct at least a thousand years ago.”
41 shrugged. “The Old Ones had long memories. Is there a tape of these who attacked?”
“Just of their ships,” said Kelly in curiosity. The odd quirks of 41’s past never failed to amaze him. He pointed at the viewer, and 41 crossed the room to activate it. Kelly had to clear 41’s request, and then they were all crowding around to watch the tape. By now heartily tired of watching the battle, the disappearance of the four ships, and the sudden appearance of nine black-hulled marauders, Kelly leveled his attention upon 41 ’s lean, bronzed face, watching it for any hint of recognition.
But as usual, 41’s expression gave little away of what he was thinking. He watched with total concentration, seemingly oblivious to the others’ comments, and when the tape ended he requested a second run-through.
“Well?” said Kelly at last.
41‘s tawny eyes met his. “They are the same. The pattern of attack and the black-hulled ships. These are old tales that I heard many times, of their coming into the skies as locusts, engulfing a world and slaying all upon it, only to depart as rapidly as they came. It was said they searched for a world to make their own. Yet none ever satisfied. They could not be frightened for death meant nothing to them. Life meant less. They showed no mercy to those they vanquished. They took Saulis, Amazeran, Koth—”
“Koth!” said Beaulieu, frowning. “But these are mythical civilizations, legends never proven.”
“They flourished until the coming of the Invaders,” said 41. “Then they were no more. The Svetzin arose and pulled together the mightiest fleet of their long history. They sought out the Invaders and attacked them. They journeyed to the gateway and found it as this tape shows, a shimmer in the void, nothing seen and therefore unable to be closed. The Invaders fought like the ten furies of Halsbane, and yet the Svetzin had taken an oath to defeat them, unto the last drop of Svetzin blood.”
41’s eyes flashed fiercely. “It did take it. But they defeated the Invaders. And the last Svetzin ship journeyed through the gate that was not there, never to return. Thus it was closed for all time.”
“Until now,” said Kelly softly.
The others looked at him.
“Maybe,” said Beaulieu.
Phila’s dark eyes glowed over the tale. Siggerson frowned in skepticism. Caesar made a face and wandered away, shaking his head. Beaulieu stared at 41 with a thoughtful look as though she wanted to dissect him.
“Sounds pretty similar to me,” said Kelly. “What if they are the same people? What if they’ve opened another gate, and intend to come through again?”
“But that’s nonsense,” said Siggerson. “Why wait a thousand years? If they had the capability then, it wouldn’t have been lost—”
“It might have been. The Svetzin might have defeated them enough to set them back a long time.”
“No civilization holds the same goal that long.”
“None in our experience,” said Kelly. “We don’t know what we’re up against. The admiral said he felt a malevolence. He’s not prone to flights of fancy or even hunches. For him to admit something like that, it must have been a pretty strong feeling.”
“An old ghost story and you’re going to believe it?” asked Siggerson, looking from Kelly to 41. “I suppose next you’ll decide that we should go through that anomaly after the missing ships—”
“Why not?” said Kelly. They started to protest and he put up his hands. “Hear me out. It’s our job to perform tasks the Fleet can’t. Investigation and rescue, remember? We have to know what’s become of those four ships. If possible, we have to get them and their crews back.”
“They could be dead by now, smeared four millimeters thick on the surface of some rock,” said Siggerson in impatience.
“Then we’ll confirm it,” said Kelly. “That’s the job, people.”
“We don’t have orders from West,” said Siggerson. “Who’s decided this is our job? You?”
“That’s right,” said Kelly levelly. “The admiral asked for our help, and I’ve offered it.”
&nb
sp; “The admiral,” said Siggerson despite Caesar’s warning tug on his sleeve, “sounds like he’s gone overboard on this invasion of the galaxy theory. He spooked when the ships winked out—”
“Wouldn’t you?” asked Caesar hotly. “Go stiff yourself, Siggerson. You’re just mad because we trashed the Valiant to save a few hundred lives. Pull together or ship out.”
Siggerson’s eyes were like charcoal in the white stretch of his face. “Ship out,” he said, nodding. “Not such a bad idea. I don’t know how I ever got roped into this outfit in the first place.”
Turning on his heel he strode away, calling to Ouoji as he went.
41 spoke at Kelly’s shoulder: “Do I stop him?”
Kelly shook his head. “It has to be free choice or nothing.”
“Good riddance,” said Caesar. “He never was a Hawk anyway. Nothing but a computer brain with a polarized nodule for a heart. Pilots are easy to replace.”
Phila shrugged and said nothing. Beaulieu, however, frowned after Siggerson as though she wanted to do or say something to bring him back.
Siggerson paused at the door and glanced over his shoulder. “Ouoji! Come here.”
Ouoji, who’d been sniffing delicately beneath a chair, now bounced out into the open. But instead of running after him, she sat down and wrapped her long, fluffy tail tightly around her feet. Her blue eyes slitted in disapproval.
“Ouoji, I’m going back to Station 4. If we don’t leave now, we’ll have to go on this cockeyed mission. So come along.”
Ouoji’s furry ear flaps lifted, then clamped tightly shut again. She made no other move.
After a moment Siggerson snorted. “I guess you’ve got some notion that you have to stay with the Valiant. Only there isn’t one anymore. Your duty is off. Understand?”
Ouoji flipped the tip of her tail to indicate that she did understand, but she did not move.
Hurt showed briefly in Siggerson’s face before anger replaced it. “Fine,” he said, and started out the door.
Ouoji leapt forward, dashing past Siggerson to cut him off. She faced him, coming only to knee height, but looking larger than usual with her fur fuzzed out. Her tail lashed from side to side, and she chittered long and angrily.
“She’s telling him,” said Caesar. “Go to it, Ouoji!”
Siggerson stood there until Ouoji paused, then he said, “This is absurd.” He started to step around her, but she wrapped her tail about his ankle and darted between his legs with a stout yank that toppled him off balance.
He went sprawling onto his backside. Before he could scramble up, Ouoji jumped onto his stomach and put her face in his, chittering more vehemently than ever.
Kelly exchanged looks with the others and started to smile.
“You’d better rescue him, boss,” said Caesar. “The last time I tried to pet her when she was all riled up, she bit my finger.”
Kelly went to the pilot. “Ouoji,” he said quietly. “Hey, Ouoji, lighten up. I think Siggerson gets the message.”
She ignored him and continued her tirade for several minutes, finishing with a series of little growls and a bump of her round head under Siggerson’s chin as though to show there were no permanent hard feelings.
At this point 41 scooped her up. She bounded to his shoulder and curled around his head to peer at Siggerson. Kelly touched Siggerson’s chest to hold him in place.
“Are you staying on the team?” he asked. He tried not to laugh openly, but the corners of his mouth kept curling.
Siggerson looked from him to Ouoji and back again. He grimaced. “I seem to have no choice. Commander Ouoji has spoken.”
Kelly laughed and gave him a hand up. “Good. We need you. I won’t deny that. And when this is finished, we’ll get another ship.”
Siggerson shrugged and said nothing. .
Phila activated the viewer and the screen showed the other ships pulling away. “It’s too late anyway,” she said. “Like it or not, we’re stuck with this job now.”
“One starship against 41’s race of Invaders,” said Caesar mournfully. “Do you think this hulk has a bar? I need a stiff drink.”
* * *
4
Kelly had been in Nielson’s Void only once before, and that was long ago during his time as an ensign. Three days later the Jefferson slowed from TD 4 and flashed her security codes at the warning buoys. At a cautious sublight pace she entered the zone that was forbidden to all civilian spacecraft.
The main viewscreen on the narrow, equipment-crammed bridge showed very few stars, like a dim scattering of dust far away. On a whim the science officer was playing engine rumble over audio, giving them the illusion of listening to themselves against the infinite silence of space.
The void was truly empty. No asteroid belts, no nebulae, no cinderball remnants of planets spinning on a rogue course, no comets, no dust clouds, no young stars or old stars ... nothing to get in the way of whatever testing the military wanted to conduct. They didn’t even have the spectacular spectrum band of color caused by bending light waves to watch now that they were going at sublight.
Kelly stood and gazed into the darkness, feeling it suck at his vision. It was said that sailors of old used to become mesmerized by the wake of their vessels upon Earth’s seas until they fell overboard to their deaths. He had always found the glitter of stars and planets to be hypnotic. Now, their absence disturbed him. He shifted on his feet, frowning.
Ship’s sensors were scanning on maximum sweep. Nothing had registered. They were utterly, completely alone, a speck of dust in the cosmos. Vulnerable and tiny in the pressurized protection of a pyrillium hull with a few plasma cannons against whatever waited for them to venture closer.
A hand touched Kelly’s shoulder. “Commander?”
He jumped and spun around, already feeling the swift heat of embarrassment. He found himself looking into the gray eyes of Captain Serula.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I was letting my fancies run away with me.”
Serula smiled. Her skin had lost its pallor. She looked more rested, but no less haunted. “The Void is one creepy sector of space. We’re almost to the coordinates where Blue Squadron disappeared. I’ve decided to launch both shuttle-craft. Your squad will be in one, and a science team will be in the other.”
Kelly didn’t like the idea and started to say so, but Serula raised her brows coolly at him.
“Triangulation,” she said. “We might as well spread our meager forces as far as we can. By the way, I’m coming with you.”
“Oh, no, you’re not,” said Kelly before he could stop himself.
Engine rumble quieted on the speakers, and conversations upon the bridge died down as the duty crew got ready to listen. Serula drew in an audible breath and snapped him a look of exasperation.
“There will be no discussion,” she said curtly. “Prepare for launch in thirty minutes. Shuttlebay 2.”
Thus dismissed from the bridge, Kelly had no choice but to leave and get to work. His squad, finally in uniform, was ready, but there were last-minute checks to run as they loaded their gear upon the shuttle. It was a cramped craft, shaped like a crescent, with the propulsion jets centered on the inside curve. Siggerson wedged his lanky body into the pilot’s seat where there wasn’t room for his long legs and scowled at the instrumentation. Ouoji perched on his shoulder, studying the controls with visible interest.
“A child could fly this,” said Siggerson. “It’s designed for the simplest possible operation.”
“Then why don’t you put Ouoji in the driver’s seat?” said Caesar, tossing another gear bag to Phila, who was loading compartments in the left wing.
Ouoji turned her round head and squinted at Caesar in amusement. She patted Siggerson where his hair was balding on the crown as though to remind him to keep his temper.
“Look sharp,” said Kelly. “Serula wants to go with us.”
They stopped work at once.
“Why?”
“We don�
�t need her in the way.”
“Boss—”
Kelly raised his hands. “Agreed. We don’t need her. She’s like a time bomb, waiting to detonate.”
“Stress,” said Beaulieu, still counting off things on her checklist. “Compounded by the fact that her husband was commanding one of the ships that vanished out here.”
Even Kelly hadn’t known that. He dropped his duffel onto a seat and stared at Beaulieu. “How did you find that out?”
She shrugged. “Simple. I read the medical logs. The admiral’s decision to let her command the Jefferson back out here is one thing. Her going along with us is another—”
“Right,” said Kelly. “She isn’t going. Finish this up. We’re planning an early launch.”
“No, you’re not,” said Serula’s voice. Her lilting accent was almost lost in the grim flatness of her tone. She stood at the open hatch of the shuttle, looking in at them.
Kelly wondered how much she had overheard. The anger in her gaze told him she had heard everything. He faced her without apology.
“Okay, Captain. We couldn’t slug it out on the bridge in front of your crew. But this is my crew. They are highly trained specialists. They work precisely together. You aren’t needed. You will be in the way.”
“I can handle more than a starship,” she said. “And I don’t have to ask your permission to come along.”
She stepped into the shuttle, but 41 blocked her path. She glared at him, but he didn’t budge.
“Get out of my way, operative,” she snapped. “That’s an order.”
41 bared his teeth.
Serula blinked and took a second look at him. She drew back slightly. “Commander, call this man aside.”
“He’s following my orders,” said Kelly, “and we don’t follow yours. Go back to your bridge, Captain.”
She flushed. “I can’t do anything there. Look, Kelly. I’m not trying to take charge. I just want to be a part of the rescue. I overheard you talking to the admiral. I know that you intend to go through the gateway if you can find it.” She frowned. “Not many would try something like that. I—I appreciate it, and I want to help.”
Sean Dalton - Operation StarHawks 03 - Beyond the Void Page 5