Orion Among the Stars o-5

by Ben Bova

  I sat up and pondered. I had not imagined the contact; it was real. And it was here, in this space-time. It knew of the Skorpis. And it said that the Skorpis were not alone; they had “allies” with them.

  “Who are you?” I called out.

  No reply.

  “I identified myself to you. It’s only fair that you tell me who you are.” The words sounded slightly ridiculous to me even as I spoke them. Some entity contacts me telepathically and I demand that they follow the rules of etiquette.

  I sensed an amusement, although it might have been merely my own feelings of foolishness.

  I waited there, squatting on the littered floor, until the sky began to turn milky pale above me. Admitting defeat, I got up and returned to the building where my troopers had camped.

  Manfred was standing in the doorway at street level, rifle in his hands.

  “Captain!” he snapped. “You’re all right!”

  “Of course I’m all right,” I said.

  “We spent half the night searching for you. When you disappeared—”

  “I was inspecting the city,” I said curtly. “If I had run into trouble I would have contacted you on the emergency frequency.”

  In the gray light of dawn Manfred’s taut face looked half disappointed, half relieved. “Yes, sir, I suppose so. But still, we expected you to return and when you didn’t…” His voice trailed off.

  I clasped him on the shoulder. “You’re right, Manfred. I should have told you that I was going to spend the night exploring. It’s my fault. I hope you didn’t lose too much sleep.”

  “No, sir. I’m fine.” But now that I looked at him closely I could see that his eyes were baggy from sleeplessness.

  The troop breakfasted on prepacked rations; then I sent them out by squads to check out the ruins and locate the best defensive positions they could find. Each squad went out under its top sergeant; I kept the officers with me.

  “We need to scout the Skorpis base,” I told them. “And, if possible, to get inside it.”

  Quint made a snorting laugh. “Sure. We’ll just walk up to their perimeter and ask for a tour.”

  “Or tunnel from here to there,” Frede suggested, grinning.

  “I’ve done some tunneling in my time,” I said, “but I don’t think that would work in this case.”

  “Then what do you have in mind?” Quint asked. Then he added, “Sir.”

  I considered telling them about my telepathic contact but decided against it. I wasn’t certain that I believed it myself. But the thought that the Skorpis might have allies inside their base was too important to neglect.

  “I’m going alone,” I said.

  “You can’t do that,” Frede snapped. “With all due respect, sir, you can’t go out on a suicide mission and leave your command to fend for itself.”

  “It needn’t be a suicide mission, Lieutenant. I’m not a total fool.”

  “Then let me do it,” she said without hesitation.

  I shook my head. “I’ve had more experience at this sort of thing than you. I’ll do it. If I’m not back by sundown tomorrow, you can consider me dead.”

  Frede looked as if she wanted to argue, but she knew it would be pointless. Manfred looked as if he thought I was crazy. Quint almost smiled. If I was killed, he would be in command.

  Manfred cleared his throat. “May I ask, sir, how you intend to get to the Skorpis base? There’s a couple of klicks of empty beach between the edge of these ruins and their perimeter.”

  “Wait until dark?” Quint asked.

  “They see better in the dark than we do,” Frede reminded him. “Any advantage we have, it’s in daylight.”

  “Cross the beach in daylight?”

  I smiled. “No, that would be like trying to sneak up on a pack of Tyrannosaurs.”

  “Tyranno-what, sir?”

  “Very large carnivorous reptiles, ten meters tall, teeth the size of your forearm,” I explained.

  Frede looked as if she thought I was making it up.

  Manfred brought us back to the subject. “Sir, if you can’t get across the beach without being seen, how are you going to get to their base?”

  “Swim.”

  “Swim?”

  I said, “Their base is laid out along the beach, isn’t it? There are even some projections like piers that extend into the water, aren’t there?”

  “Yessir, but—”

  “I’ll double back to the bay, slip into the water there, let the current carry me into the ocean and then swim along the beach to the Skorpis base.”

  “That’s a lot of swimming, sir,” said Manfred.

  “I’ll use a flight pack. I assume they’re watertight.”

  “Yessir, but salt water is very corrosive and—”

  “What if there are animals in the water like the ones we met in the swamp?” Frede asked.

  I hadn’t thought of that. Sucking in a breath, I said, “I’ll have to outrun them, I guess. Or kill them.”

  “It’s suicide,” she said flatly.

  I gave her a tight smile. “I’m not asking permission.”

  Chapter 8

  The water was surprisingly warm.

  I had expected the bay to be cold, fed as it was by the river that came down from the snowcapped mountains. But instead the water was almost bath temperature, warmed by the sun during the long hot days.

  The current was strong and swift, once I got away from the shore. I made a mental note to remember that for when I returned. I would have to struggle against that current unless I hugged the shoreline closely. The flight pack would help, of course, if it wasn’t drained of power or corroded by the salt water.

  With a final wave to Frede and Manfred, who had accompanied me to the edge of the bay, I ducked beneath the surface and let the powerful current carry me out to sea. I had stripped down to nothing more than shorts. The only equipment I carried was my pistol, my knife, and the flight pack strapped to my back.

  I have strengths and abilities far beyond those of normal humans, even the cloned warriors that made up the involuntary army of this era. I could stay underwater for a quarter of an hour without difficulty, and even longer if I needed to; in an emergency I could squeeze spare oxygen from my body cells.

  But I am not superhuman. I knew that if one of those tentacled swamp things got its grip on me now, underwater, I would be face-to-face with death. My laser pistol would work underwater, but only at very short ranges. The water absorbed laser energy very quickly.

  I wished that we had oxygen tanks with us, so that I could remain submerged indefinitely. But we did not. Oxygen tanks were not among the equipment we had carried to the planet with us. I wished that the flight pack could push me through the water faster, but I dared not drain its power pack too quickly. So I had to be content with allowing the current to carry me along, saving the flight pack for when my muscle power alone would not be enough to propel me where I wanted to go.

  When I broke to the surface, I saw that I was already past the curve of the shoreline. The sun was high overhead, the swells of the ocean driving up onto the long white beach, where the waves broke and boomed relentlessly. I swam out beyond the surf, using the flight pack to help me against the tide, and then struck out parallel to the beach, heading for the Skorpis base.

  The salt water was beautifully clear and lit by the afternoon sun. I could see brightly colored fish by the hundreds sparkling and dashing about. A sleek, deadly-looking hunter slid through the water farther out; it paid no attention to me and I did nothing to change its attitude. None of those tentacled things from the swamps, thank fortune. I had no desire to get tangled with one of those again.

  When I came up for a gulp of air again, I saw that I had made precious little progress toward the Skorpis base. Must be a current running against me, I thought. Or perhaps the tide is moving slantwise with respect to the beach. Reluctantly I notched my flight pack to a slightly higher power and dived beneath the waves again.

  In the
distance, through the crystal water, I saw what at first I thought was a reef. Fish swarmed all around it, a glittering moving rainbow of coruscating colors and flashing movement. As I came closer, though, I realized that it was not a natural formation but a set of structures built underwater and crusted over with coral and seaweed and a thousand other forms of shellfish and underwater plants.

  I popped to the surface again to get my bearings. The ruins of the ancient city lay up above the beach. These underwater structures were part of that city, I guessed. Probably there were tunnels connecting the two. I tucked that possibility into my memory; it might be useful later.

  I swam to the coral-encrusted structures. There were long arms reaching from the shore out to sea a kilometer or more, buttressed by stout pillars and cross-bracing. Whoever had built the city had built these structures, too. But why? I could discern no reason for them, no hint of their purpose.

  Predators lurked there. As I glided along the structures, looking for something that might be an entrance, I saw a flicker of movement. A brightly colored fish suddenly disappeared in an eyeblink-fast snap of jaws. Looking closer, I saw a long gray eel-like thing hovering by one of the girders, its head filled with glinting teeth and a pair of beady eyes. Stretched along the girder, it was almost invisible until it moved. I reached for the combat knife strapped to my thigh. Its presence gave me some comfort.

  I spent some time examining the ancient structures. If there were any hatches or air locks in them, they had long since been cemented over by coral and barnacles and other sea life. It was bitterly ironic. The intelligent beings who had built this underwater complex had long since vanished, probably self-destructed in a genocidal war. Now their magnificent structures served as homes for fish and crustaceans and seaweed and the lowliest forms of life on the planet.

  Then I saw something big prowling through the water. Something with arms and legs.

  Like the snapping eel, I froze in place beside a crusted buttress, hanging in the water with my feet dangling, holding my breath. By being still I could be almost invisible. Or so I hoped.

  Three of them. Three human shapes gliding through the water a few dozen meters away. Skorpis? It was difficult to judge distance and size underwater. Two of the shapes were considerably larger than the third. They seemed to be escorting it as the three of them swam along. They wore bubble helmets and had flippers attached to their feet. As they came nearer I saw that each of them was encased in a skintight suit that bristled with equipment. Yet I saw no weapons on them. I could not make out their faces, but they seemed big enough to be Skorpis warriors. At least the two of them did. The third? A child?

  I scanned my memory for information about the Skorpis. Yes, they traveled as tribes. Their society was matrilineal, their leaders all females. Warriors could be male or female, both were of the same size, there was no sexual dimorphism among the Skorpis. That meant that the third one was either a child or a member of a different species.

  I was running out of air. Soon I would have to get up to the surface and fill my lungs. But I dared not move while the Skorpis were so close. Fortunately their attention seemed to be focused on the sea bottom. All three of them were looking intently downward as they paddled by.

  As soon as they had passed me—by no more than twenty meters—I began slowly rising toward the surface, keeping the heavy buttress between me and them.

  Tangy salt air tasted better than wine to me, but I had no time to spare enjoying it. My mind was torn between my original objective of reaching the Skorpis base and a new curiosity about the trio nearby. Where were they going? What were they looking for?

  I took a deep breath, then dived back underwater and decided to trail this trio, at least for a little while.

  I glided along behind them, watching from a few dozen meters away as they probed deeper and deeper among the jutting underwater structures. They certainly seemed to be searching for something. They inspected the ends of each of the long, tubular structures, spending several minutes examining one before moving off to look at the next. I had to go up to the surface twice while they intently studied the maze of long cylindrical tubes and their supporting buttresses.

  I began to realize that many of those tubes had been broken off, smashed at their ends. With all the sea life growing on the structures, that had not been evident at first. But now I could see that some tubes were far shorter than others, and their ends were ragged, as if they had exploded from within or been smashed from without.

  At last the Skorpis trio, if that is what they were, swam out to the farthest tube. I dared not follow them all the way out there, for there was no cover to conceal me. The tube extended more than a hundred meters farther into the sea than any of the others. Perhaps it was the only tube to remain undamaged in whatever catastrophe overtook the others. In any event, I stayed close to the protective maze of girders and buttresses that supported the broken tubes.

  The trio began to unlimber their equipment as hordes of curious fish swarmed around them, almost obscuring my view of them. In short order I saw the flash of a laser cutter and bubbles of heated water rising toward the gleaming surface above us. All the fish scattered away. The trio were engrossed enough in their work for me to rise to the surface several times for more air.

  After a while the laser flashes stopped and I could hear through the water a cacophony of banging and the screeching of metal on metal. Then a long, tortured groaning sound, like a long-shut door being forced open on rusted hinges. The three of them disappeared from my view.

  I waited long minutes. I went up to the surface for air. They were still gone when I came back down.

  If that tube actually does connect with the ruins of the city, I thought, this could be a way for the Skorpis to infiltrate the city and wipe out what’s left of my troop. Is that what they’re up to?

  I had to know.

  I swam along the length of the tube to its end. None of the Skorpis were there, although much of their equipment floated in the water, tethered to the open end of the tube. They had opened it, I saw. They had pried open a small hatch and gone inside. I hung by one hand on the edge of that open hatch and debated my next move. It was dark inside the tube; I could not see much. The three of them might be waiting in there for me to walk into their trap, or they might be half a kilometer down the tube, searching its length to see if it brought them to the ruined city.

  Remembering that the Skorpis saw in the dark much better than I could, I still squeezed carefully through that open hatch and inside the tube. I found myself in a water-filled chamber. The walls inside were smooth metal, untouched by the teeming sea life that had attached itself to the outside. I felt panic rising in me unbidden. It was one thing to be underwater in the open ocean. But in this confined chamber something like claustrophobia hit me. The only way out was through that narrow hatch and if it closed and trapped me in here—

  My hands, blindly probing the ceiling of the chamber, found another hatch. I pushed against it and it swung upward. The gushing water drew me up through it into another chamber, this one lit a ghostly gray by luminescent walls. I kicked the hatch shut and the water drained out; I could hear the faint hum of pumps at work.

  I stood on shaky legs and breathed again. The air was musty, damp, but breathable. Looking around this chamber, I saw still another hatch set into its curving wall. This was an air lock; it had been designed to let people go out into the ocean and come back inside again.

  The Skorpis had done so and were somewhere up the tube now. Had they heard the pumps cycling? Did they know I was here? Were they waiting for me on the other side of that hatch?

  I slid my laser pistol from its holster and leaned my free hand on the hatch. It swung open slowly. Whoever had designed this air lock had not been worried about enemies invading their city. The hatches opened at a touch.

  I peered down the long, straight passageway formed of the tube’s interior. It was more brightly lit, its curving walls glowing with luminescence, three sets
of wet footprints clearly visible on its metal flooring. I even saw their three sets of flippers, left on the floor a few meters up the passageway.

  If they were waiting to ambush me I saw no sign of it. The passageway was perfectly smooth, there were no alcoves or bends for them to hide in. I could see for hundreds of meters along it, but then it rose at a slight angle and I could see no farther.

  Should I follow them or wait for them to return? They were far enough up the passageway that they probably did not hear the pumps recycling, so they most likely did not know I was behind them. I could wait here, keeping the hatch slightly ajar. When they returned I could shoot all three of them before they had a chance to blink their eyes. They would be dead meat in this featureless passageway; no place for them to hide. They were not even carrying weapons, as far as I could tell.

  But they might be scouting out a way for the Skorpis to infiltrate the ruins and surprise my troopers. Frede must have been right; they had put surveillance satellites into orbit and watched us trek to that ancient city. Like spiders watching a band of weary, lost flies. They sat in the center of their web and invited us to come in.

  I heard their footsteps before I saw them. Echoing down the metallic passageway, the soft wet padding of their bare feet came to me. Then their voices, low and rumbling like distant thunder. I pulled the hatch almost completely shut, leaving just a slit open for me to peer through. And shoot through. There was not an atom of cover for them.

  Checking my pistol to make certain it was set at its highest level and still fully charged, I waited grimly as they came closer to me and their deaths.

  They were talking as they walked down the passageway. I found that I could understand their language, just as I had understood every language I had encountered on all of the missions the Golden One had heaped upon me. I could almost see his smirking expression of superiority, almost hear him telling me gloatingly that he had put the knowledge of the local languages into my brain the way one might insert a list of names and addresses into a computer.