I bet he does. Hamilton thought.
“Roger that. Maintaining course and deceleration.” He said.
Now all they had to do was figure out what to do next.
*****
The cargo module had, despite its size, always seemed a little crowded to Hamilton when he and the other refugees from the Hope’s Breath had been living in it. With the crew of the Ulysses also present, Hamilton felt a little claustrophobic.
The cutter had quickly closed and matched course and velocity with the freighter, at which point Hamilton had cut the engines and allowed the ship to drift on at its current speed. The Ulysses had docked starboard to starboard, as was traditional, the cutter’s engines pointing forward. A new umbilical tunnel had been attached to the lock to replace the one that had been ripped free during the escape from Tantalus Station and the crew had come aboard.
The reuniting of the two groups was cause for much back-slapping and congratulations. Hamilton had to endure another of Klane’s hugs though this time, thanks to her relatively normal prosthetic arm replacement, he was in no danger of cracking any ribs.
There was less warmth shown towards Lewis, at least by those who had been aboard the Hope’s Breath and knew her. She looked like she’d rather not be the center of attention and once Hamilton had related the tale of their escape and what Lewis had endured there was a certain amount of distance afforded her by the crew. She was a psion of unknown talent and strength, and that made people nervous.
The story of the Ulysses own flight was related by a chuckling Rames but Hamilton detected a forced humor to the man’s laughter, especially when it came to relating his pilot’s exploits. Veltin, for his part, pleaded modesty as to his exploits, whilst obviously basking in the glory of his achievement.
Hamilton was a little wary of the pilot’s skills. He’d read his file, after all. But sometimes when you were in a crazy situation, it called for even crazier people. And Veltin was definitely that.
Once the pleasantries were out of the way and they had finished congratulating each other on their daring escapes, Rames got straight down to business.
“So what do we do next?” His comment was seemingly aired generally, but Hamilton flinched as if he had been struck by an arrow.
I got them into this mess. He thought. Now I have to find us a way out of it.
Slowly he moved to stand alone, stepping up onto a box so that they could all see him. He started by re-iterating the situation, as much to get things straight in his own head as to remind them of the facts.
“An alien species has infiltrated the Empire of Man. By their own admission, they are some ten thousand individuals. They have infiltrated computer systems, ships, anything with sufficient storage capacity. They have taken possession of an unknown number of humans and also control additional humans through implants. We cannot know who these individuals are at the present time, but we can assume they are likely to be individuals with real influence and power in the Empire.
“We few are the only ones that know of their existence. They have threatened that, at any moment, they could trigger violence that would destroy the Empire, and perhaps wipe out all of humanity. They have threatened to do this if we try to go public with the information. Our enemy has labeled us as terrorists and set our own kind against us, so even if we did go public, I doubt anyone would believe us.
“Essentially, they have the Empire by the short hairs!”
The crowd’s relief and happiness at the joint escape was fading fast, replaced by the bleakness of their situation.
“We must decide what, if anything, we can do about this situation.” Hamilton continued. “I’ll share my thoughts on the matter with you. I’ll tell you what I think we should do. Then I’ll be more than happy to entertain alternative ideas.”
“Firstly, we know almost nothing about these aliens other than the fact that they fought the Humals centuries ago. As you’re all aware, the Humals are extinct as a species. It is possible that these aliens wiped out the Humals in their war but, equally, the Humals may have beaten the aliens and imprisoned them. The aliens are, as far as I know, some sort of data entity. They have no physicality, no substance. As such, they can move into any storage medium sufficiently large to contain them. Once there, they can access the system’ own functions, effectively gaining control over it. As I’ve mentioned, this can be an inanimate system, like a computer, or a human being. Animate or inanimate, organic or inorganic. It make no difference. If it stores data, they can occupy it.
“Secondly, these aliens seem to want to wipe us out. Yet they haven’t done so yet. Something is giving them pause. Their leader told us that he doesn’t know what happened in their war with the Humals. That fact is making him cautious. It may be that the Humals won, then died out for some other reason. Or it may be that they fought each other into extinction. Either way, his hesitation gives us time to try to find a way to defeat them. Whilst he’s searching for answers, we will search for answers.
“So what do I think we should do?” Hamilton paused to look around at the expectant faces. “We need to find one of these aliens in a human host and interrogate it. Find out what it knows. Scan it, probe it, do whatever it takes to find out how it occupies a person, find out how we can detect such possessions at a distance and, ultimately, how to kill it.”
There was a rustle of unease amid the assembled people. One of the Marines put up a hand and Hamilton nodded at him. “Yes Corporal.”
The Marine looked momentarily surprised that Hamilton had been able to read his rank insignia but recovered quickly. “Won’t killing it involve killing the host, too?”
Hamilton drew a long, slow breath. “Possibly. I’m hoping we can find a way to flush the alien out which, hopefully, will allow the original personality to return. But it is possible the host might die in the process, yes. Even if we succeed in finding a way to evict the alien, there might be nothing left of the original person to return. We might be left with nothing more than a brain-dead body.
“But, until we can catch one, and experiment, then our options are limited to putting bullets in their heads anyway, assuming we can learn to recognize them on sight. We catch one, we learn what we can. If necessary, we catch another, and another, until we have the information we need.”
Another Marine raised a hand. Hamilton nodded at him. “Private?”
“Sir! I may be out of line here, but from what I saw on the recording, that Walsh character seemed to have comms beyond anything we have available. I mean, he knew you were there, was able to get to you. If we go anywhere near any of these things, aren’t they going to know at once?”
“What’s this recording you mentioned?” Hamilton was puzzled.
Klane piped up. “Mine.” She tapped the side of her head near her cybernetic eye. “I can record up to an hour of footage and sound.” She noticed Hamilton’s surprise. “Well, you really didn’t think I’d have an eye that could just ‘see’, did you?”
Hamilton snorted and returned to the Marine. “They do seem to have their tendrils into every important part of the Imperial network. It’s true that, if we show our faces anywhere near a camera, the aliens will know about it in short order. Our own systems have automatic facial recognition software to alert authorities to known criminals. If the aliens don’t come after us, then we can be damn sure our own kind will.”
Rames frowned. “So how are we going to get anywhere near to abducting one of these aliens? We don’t even know who to abduct!”
“We know the identity of one of them. The one calling itself Walsh. Whoever’s body it is inhabiting, there will be records of. We can find out who that was, where he lives and works, and plan accordingly.”
“You mean to kidnap Walsh himself?” Rames was incredulous.
Hamilton shook his head. “Not really. But if we find him, I bet we find where some of the others are. We can cross-reference it with the name Paul Vogerian, since it seems highly likely the old man unwittingly funded the entirety of Walsh’s
first expedition. That should give us plenty of leads to pursue.”
There was silence as they digested this news. It wasn’t much, but they had a belief that there was something they could do, some direction they could work towards to make a difference. The mood in the cargo module brightened.
Jones, of course, had to go and darken it. “But, if Walsh is as smart as he thinks he is, won’t he anticipate us doing this?”
Hamilton smiled . “I’m almost certain he will. Look at it this way, we’ve escaped his little trap for us. Instead of being packed off to prison for the rest of our lives, we’re on the loose. Right now I expect he’s wondering why he didn’t just nuke the entire station whilst we were on it. He’s thinking that, whilst we are at large, we might cause him trouble. He’ll be thinking of ways to trap us again, or just kill us outright. He’s almost certainly realized we’ll run his face through the database and see who he’s inhabiting. Now, if I were him, and didn’t want any trouble from us, I’d just erase that face from the database along with all its records. We’ve seen that he has the ability to tamper with Imperial files, so that should have been easy for him. In fact, I’d have done it before I talked to us.
“However, if we run the search and he’s still on the database, then that means he’s put himself on the grid to deliberately lead us on.”
“So it’ll be a trap, then?” Klane stated.
Hamilton nodded. “I would guess the face would lead us to a small system, well out of the way, mostly uninhabited. Maybe a research station or scientific outpost. Somewhere that looks plausible for a secret lair! He’ll expect us to turn up and try to abduct or kill him. He’ll be waiting. Not him personally, of course. But some of his people. My gut feeling is he’ll use Imperial assets, led by his kind, or perhaps a few controlled humans. We’ll show up, and be set upon when we least expect it and blown to pieces.”
“So you’re thinking to turn the tables somehow?” Rames frowned.
Hamilton nodded. “We make it look like we’ve blundered into his trap, but in reality, we lure them into a trap of our making.”
“How do we manage that?” Rames asked. “We don’t exactly have a lot to work with ourselves, you know.”
“I know. But bear with me. Once we’ve found out where he’s supposed to be, we’ll be able to formulate a plan. For now, I see it as our main line of opportunity.”
Rames snorted. “Our only opportunity, I think.”
Hamilton shook his head. “Not necessarily.”
“How do you mean? There’s something else?”
“It’s tenuous, at best. But we might as well look into it.” Hamilton stated. He had their attentions again.
“We know that Walsh is worried by what happened during his kind’s war with the Humals. He fears the Humals did something that ended the war and defeated his kind. For all we know that’s exactly what happened. Either way, the Humals were a lot more advanced, technically, than we are. We’ve found barely a handful of their sites and artifacts. Yet that tech has advanced us immeasurably. It’s given us artificial gravity, hyperdrive and all manner of other improvements.
“I don’t know if the Humals had some secret weapon that they employed against the aliens, or not. But they fought them. We do know that. If Walsh is to be believed they fought for a long time. Even if they failed, they may have gained valuable information on the aliens that we could make use of. I think it’s worth looking into.”
Klane scowled. “None of us are xenoarchaeologists, Hamilton. Where do you suggest we start looking for that sort of intel?”
“You’re right. None of us are experts. So we need to find someone who is. Someone who understands everything there is to know about the Humals, which, admittedly probably won’t be much. But there are artifacts that have been found which remain undeciphered. Maybe one of those could help us.”
“Hmm.” Rames frowned. “You’re right. It is tenuous.”
“I don’t think any scientist we wandered up to would be very willing to help a bunch of terrorists.” Grimes added.
“I know.” Hamilton said.
“Do you even have someone in mind for this? An expert on the Humals, I mean.” Rames asked.
“Not by name, no. But I know a place where such people work. I’m guessing some research will turn up suitable names.” Hamilton said.
“Kidnap?” Rames scowled. “I don’t like the idea of that.”
Hamilton shrugged. “Desperate times, desperate measures.”
There was a brief silence as everyone digested that.
“So where do you think we can find this egg-head of yours?” Klane inquired.
“That’s the awkward part. When I was small, my parents, who were quite well-off financially, took me on a pilgrimage to Earth. I remember it as a grimy, smelly, overpopulated place that I wasn’t very happy visiting. But, I was young, and my folks thought it would be inspiring for me to see it. About all it did was inspire me to never go back there!
“Anyway, towards the end of our trip we made an excursion to Mars, to the first non-Terra colony ever set-up by man, Olympus. I’d like to say it was a lot better than Earth, but truth is, we’ve managed to ruin Mars almost as badly as we ruined Earth.
“Part of our visit there was a trip to the Martian Scientific Institute, a massive building in the middle of the city, set inside the original colony dome. As a kid I remember it being full of wonders and far more inspirational than either Earth or Mars themselves.
“Part of the tour we were on showed us how the Institute was the leading research center for Humal culture and technology. In particular, I remember one comment that the Institute was primarily interested in discovering what happened to the Humals to make them extinct.”
He fell silent, letting it all sink in.
Klane blew out her cheeks. “So you want us to just fly in to the most secure system in the Empire, head to the second most populated planet in the Empire, get past all the security and defenses and then waltz back out again with a scientist or three tucked under our arms?”
“I didn’t say it would be easy.” Hamilton observed.
Klane burst out laughing.
“Man, that’s crazy even for you.” Jones added.
“Do I have to remind you again how low on resources we are?” Rames seemed to have set his face in a permanent scowl. “We have two ships, one of them a freighter, the other a lightly armed customs vessel. We have less than thirty people, all told and only a half dozen of them are Marines! Do you really expect we can do any of this given such limits?”
Silence fell again at the captain’s words.
Time for the stirring speech. Hamilton thought to himself.
“Look. I know it seems that what I’ve suggested is far-fetched and unrealistic. As the captain pointed out, we have very little to work with and what seems like a mountain to climb. I’ve outlined two goals that we can work towards – capturing an alien, and obtaining specialist knowledge. Right now, at this very moment, they seem impossible goals, I know. But just as every journey begins with a single step, no matter how long, so every mission begins with planning. We have little now, but we can acquire more. We can secure the assets we need to carry out these missions successfully. Think of what we’ve accomplished already, with what we had. We’ve escaped a lifetime of false imprisonment, broken out of a secure holding area, stolen two starships and escaped from the best the military could throw at us. We did all that with nothing more than we have right now.
“I won’t lie to you and say that things will be easy from here on in. Because they won’t be. Chances are that, even if we succeed in the two tasks I’ve outlined, not all of us will live to celebrate the fact. We might all die. That is the reality of our situation.
“I know many of you have families and friends out there right now who, thanks to these aliens, are being informed that you are all traitors. I have family myself. They’re being told that if they see you, or hear from you, they should inform the authorities at o
nce. I’m sure that many of them won’t believe these lies about you. But a few may. In the proverbial blink of an eye, we’ve all become outcasts. Pariahs. Criminals. Scum.
“The aliens have done this, not because they are vindictive, but because they fear us being on the loose. Seven, or eight thousand of them, against thirty of us. Yet still they sought to get rid of us. Why? Because, on some level, they fear that we are a threat. They fear that we will find a way to deal with them, to dispose of them. To kill them.
“The only alternatives we have to fighting are to run away and hide, or turn ourselves in. Either way, we hand victory to Walsh and his aliens. Victory, and perhaps the annihilation of our entire species.
“It may be that they keep a few alive, to provide them with physical hosts and servants. But they will be little more than puppets, dancing to an alien tune. No freedom. Perhaps, if they are lucky, not even any awareness. Empty shells of the people they once were.
“Your loved ones face a threat that they don’t even know is there. The first they might know about it is when the nukes start falling. When the aliens tire of keeping humanity alive and decide to glass all our worlds.
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not prepared to let that happen without a fight. But the choice, in the end, is up to you.”
Hamilton stepped down off his box and walked quietly away down towards the end of the cargo module. Behind him he heard people muttering amongst themselves, the volume increasing as he got further away, out of presumed earshot.
For a while he wandered amongst the containers, glancing at labels and generally just wasting time. Everyone needed time to think about what he’d said, to digest it, to talk with one another. He felt a little guilty at dropping in comments about relatives and family. It was a cheap shot, designed to elicit an emotional response. Now all he had to do was wait.
He found a small crate and sat down on it amusing himself by playing with a length of strapping that had come off some crate or other. He was still fiddling with it when Johnson found him.
A Taste Of Despair (The Humal Sequence) Page 14