by Peter David
“No. But I was unaware that the Dogs of War only did that which was safe.”
There was no challenge in her voice, no sense of derision. She had spoken calmly, even with a mild air of curiosity, as if trying to determine what was and was not acceptable to the Dogs of War. Still, there was something about her attitude that Rier didn't entirely like. But he couldn't help but feel that attacking her just because of a passing remark might come across as a bit of an overreaction.
“Very well, then,” Rier said. “We shall make a survey of the world from a shuttle. See if it is habitable or capable of being surveyed. The Dogs of War do not court merely safety, but we have not survived as long as we have by garnering a reputation for foolhardiness, either.”
She inclined her head slightly to accept what he was saying, although he still wasn't certain whether she was simply being deferential or subtly sarcastic. He decided that if she was so subtle that no one realized it, then it really didn't matter all that much.
Moments later, Rier was back on the bridge, informing his crew of the new plans. There was a singular lack of enthusiasm among them.
“It's a trick! It's some sort of trick, it has to be!” said Krul.
Omon indicated the image on the screen that continued to flicker in definition. It was no wonder that the sensors were so pathetic as far as the nebula was concerned; it was tough enough just maintaining a visual lock. If they had actually had to enter the nebula in order to get within range of the planet, they'd probably have almost no visual to speak of. All they would see would be a large, fuzzy spot that might or might not be a planet. “Somehow, this is not what I was expecting when I first heard the legends of the Quiet Place. This world barely seems as if it's there at all.”
“What did you expect, then?” inquired Rier. “A plethora of riches and immortality, there for the taking, easily located upon a world in well-traveled spaceways with great lights arcing from it and giant letters in orbit spelling out ‘Welcome to the Quiet Place’?” Openly annoyed, Rier stalked the bridge and sneered, “Look at you, quivering! Are you Dogs? Or are you men?”
And then Atik was on his feet. “I am with you, Rier.”
There was only a moment's hesitation, and then Omon said, “Speaking my mind is not the same as being craven. My fangs and claws are yours, Rier, as always.”
There were similar shouts of affirmation from throughout the bridge, and Rier nodded in approval.
“Omon and Krul, you're with me. And Krul go down and roust Vacu, in case we're in need of muscle. Atik you will remain in charge here until my return.”
Atik nodded and saluted. “What about the girl?”
“The girl will come with us. She will lead us to the Quiet Place, as she has claimed she will.”
“And if she does not?” asked Omon.
“Then she will die.”
“And if she does?”
“Then she will die.”
“A simple, elegant plan,” said Omon.
Rier smiled as much as his maw would allow him. “I am so pleased you approve.”
As the shuttle angled downward, the sensor arrays of the vessel swept the surface of the planet. Rier studied it thoughtfully, his dark eyes narrowing, and he glanced over at Riella. She no longer seemed quite as detached as she had earlier. She actually seemed involved in the moment, even a bit excited. “Feel as if you're coming home, do you?” he asked.
She nodded but didn't speak.
Rier turned in his chair and faced Omon. “What have you got so far?”
Omon shook his head. “It's a fortunate thing we brought the environment suits. So far, from the look of it, the surface is completely uninhabitable. Frankly, even the suits might not do us much good. A great deal of magma on the surface, and much of the—”
Riella suddenly gasped, putting her hand to her breast. “What's the matter with you?” demanded Rier, but still she said nothing. She just shook her head slowly, like someone in a daze.
“Rier—”
He looked back to a clearly puzzled Omon. “What now?”
“Hold on . . . let me double check,” said Omon, as if not quite trusting his readings. He nodded once more to confirm it for himself. “I have no idea how it got there . . . I didn't see it on the first sweeps—”
“See what? What are you talking about?”
“A small section of the planet. Very small, not more than a mile or so in diameter. It's some sort of anomaly . . . like an atmospheric oasis.”
“A what?”
“I'm not quite sure how else to describe it,” said Omon.
Krul growled softly. Obviously, he was less than enthused about the entire business, but he wisely said nothing, less it be misinterpreted as cowardice. Vacu, over in a corner, snored softly, doubtlessly waiting for someone to awaken him at some point and tell him what needed to be crushed, hit, or destroyed.
“I don't understand it,” admitted Omon. “It's possible that I missed it on the first sweep. It's small enough. Or perhaps, it simply . . . appeared.”
“How very mysterious,” said Rier. He looked to Riella. “Is that where we're supposed to go, eh? It seems to be inviting us.”
Still she did not speak. Rier was beginning to lose patience with her. He went to her and, gripping her by the shoulders, half pulled her from her chair. “Well? Is that it? Is that where we're supposed to go?”
She looked at him then—really looked—and Rier suddenly felt as if her gaze was boring straight through into the back of her head. He released her without even knowing that he had done so, and she slid noiselessly back into her seat.
Suddenly the communications board crackled to life. Atik's voice came over it, and it was difficult to make out anything he was saying as the nebula interfered mightily with the transmission. It was all Rier could do to piece together what was being said. “Encountered ... resistance. Two ships—”
“Two ships, yes, I hear you,” said Rier quickly, wanting to get as much of the message as possible should he lose the band entirely.
“Small Thallonian vessel ... and a Federation shuttlecraft ...”
The Federation again! His teeth hurt with a longing to tear apart some of the Federation bastards who had made their lives so irritating. “And what happened?”
“We're fine. No significant damage. Thallonian vessel crippled—”
“And the Federation ship? The shuttle?”
There was a pause, more crackling.
“Say again?”
“Shuttle destroyed.”
Rier nodded approvingly. “Well done. If the Thallonian ship somehow managed to survive, we'll easily be able to dispense with him. As for the shuttle, the less of those sniveling cretins running about, the better.” He laughed softly at his own small jest.
“Nice piloting there, Kebron.”
Zak Kebron said, “It's the name.”
“What name?”
“The Marquand. It's the second shuttle we've lost by that name. It's cursed.”
“I don't believe in curses.”
“I do,” said Xyon at the helm of the Lyla.
“Don't be a fool.”
“A fool, Cwan? Excuse me, but need I point out that this is my ship? That you people beamed over here when your shuttle was about to be blown out of space?”
“While your ship was hiding safely under its cloak,” Cwan said disdainfully.
“Right. And I can't understand why you haven't outfitted all your Federation vessels with similar devices.”
“We of the Federation have a policy of approaching situations in an open and above-board manner. Such a policy is antithetical to the technology of the cloaking device,” Soleta informed him. “We have to offer an alternative to such nefarious races as the Romulans.”
“Right, an alternative. You're targets, they're not.”
“Can we stay focused?” said Si Cwan. “Bickering isn't going to find Kalinda.” He stepped forward, leaning over Xyon who was at the helm. “That shuttle that left the
Dog war vessel, can you keep up with it?”
“It's not easy,” Xyon said reluctantly. “Sensor tracking is sketchy at best. I'm relying mostly on sight and gut instinct.”
“Gut instinct. Wonderful,” said Kebron.
“I would not be quite so dismissive, Zak,” Soleta said. “McHenry pilots the Excalibur with much the same method.”
“Don't remind me.”
“There was another vessel in the short-lived encounter with the Dogs,” Soleta said. “Kebron, Cwan. Do you have any speculations as to who it might have been?”
“Zoran,” Cwan said immediately before Kebron could even take a breath. “It has to be. I will find him and kill him.”
“If we encounter him and he can be made a prisoner, that will be the direction taken. You cannot simply kill him in cold blood,” Soleta said.
“He is my oldest friend. I have earned the privilege.”
Kebron glanced significantly at Soleta. “Now you see why I have no interest in being his friend.”
“The shuttle is heading towards the planet,” said Xyon abruptly. “Lyla, track ahead on their course. Are they heading towards anything?”
“There is a small area on the planet surface that appears to contain breathable atmosphere,” Lyla promptly responded. “If they maintain their current heading, that will be their landing point.”
“What could cause something like that? A small area of breathable atmosphere on a world so inhospitable otherwise?” Xyon wondered.
“A freak atmospheric occurrence,” suggested Soleta. “Or perhaps some sort of terraforming experiment, left behind by a race long gone.”
“Or a race that's still there,” Kebron warned.
“That place has to be it: the Quiet Place.” Si Cwan could not entirely keep the sense of wonder from his voice. “The Quiet Place. I can hardly believe it ... I never thought I would see it myself—”
“What do you think you'll see there, Cwan? The face of God?” Kebron snorted. “Absurd. Right, Soleta?”
“Oh, I don't know,” said Soleta. “I am a woman of science. I try to keep myself open to all possibilities.”
“You, Soleta?” Kebron rarely sounded surprised or at least allowed himself to sound that way. “You're a scientist. Your discipline is the antithesis of religion.”
“Not necessarily. After all, for example, in the Judeo-Christian Bible, God charges Adam—the metaphor for the beginning of humanity—with the responsibility of naming everything in Creation.”
“So?”
“So . . . that is, fundamentally, what I do. I research, I study, and I try to put names to things. They are scientific names, but they are names nonetheless. My life is defining that which is already there. In a way, you could say that I am doing God's work.”
Kebron rolled his eyes. “Religious . . . nonsense. I hate when you do that, Soleta.”
“Do what?”
“Play devil's advocate.”
“Whose advocate?” she asked, with a slight, puckish raising of one eyebrow.
“Devil's . . .” He stopped and then snorted once more.
Soleta walked up to the viewing port and studied the planet ahead of them. “I am just getting a feeling about this world. That is all.”
“What sort of feeling?” asked Cwan.
“The feeling . . . that we are going to encounter something extremely unscientific.”
XIV.
THE SCREAMING DID NOT BEGIN immediately; when it did begin, it did so quietly . . .
Riella felt as if the fog in which she had been living for many, many years was slowly lifting from the moment she set foot on the planet. The ground was surprisingly soft beneath her feet, almost spongy.
“I'm home,” she whispered.
Rier was significantly less enthused by what he saw, for what he saw was a considerable amount of nothing.
He could not recall having seen a more desolate and uninteresting piece of real estate in his life. It was impossible for him to believe that there were any riches, any treasure, any secret of immortality there. There was nothing there.
Nothing. Not a damned thing.
The entire area was completely uninteresting. A few rises, a few crevices, that was all. No brash, no shrubs. Not a single animal of any sort was crawling across the slightly soggy ground.
The only intriguing thing was the sky. In the distance, high above, the clouds seemed to be whirling in a slow but steady vortex. They were dark, flashing every so often with lightning from within like a storm perpetually on the brink of opening up, but never quite getting there.
But they made no sound.
Rier's ears, sharp as they were, were strained to the utmost, and still he could detect no sound. Something was blowing the clouds, but there was no wind. Lightning crackled from on high, but there was no thunder. All was silent. All was quiet.
“What kind of place is this?” Omon said. He was clearly trying to keep the apprehension out of his voice.
“I have no idea. But I'm going to find out.” He turned and strode towards Riella. “All right, girl,” he said. “We're here in this world of oddity. You have led us here. Is this the Quiet Place?”
“You knew the answer to that question before you asked it,” she told him.
It was odd. She seemed . . . taller somehow when she said that.
“Where are the riches, then? Where is the immortality?”
“All around you. Can't you feel it? Can't you sense it? For one such as yourself, who prides his senses, I can't understand how you can been so unsighted.”
“You're the one who's going to be unsighted, girl,” Rier told her sharply. “Once I rip your eyes out for playing games with us.”
She drew herself up, straight and proud and disdainful, and said, “I don't need eyes to see far more clearly than you.”
She was not acting like a victim. She was not behaving in a manner appropriate to someone whose life was hanging by a thread. Rier felt it time to make certain she understood just how precarious her personal situation was. He stepped forward and grabbed her by one arm with such force that it would have taken the smallest effort to rip it from her shoulder. “You will tell me,” he said, “what I want to know! Or you will die, here! Now! Right on the site of this precious Quiet Place that you have led us to! You—”
“Let her go.”
Rier, Vacu, Omon, and Krul reacted to the unexpected-voice. Rier let out a low growl of anger.
There was a ship sitting on the ground not far away, and it was just rippling into visibility. A door had irised open, and standing just outside, weapons leveled at the Dogs, were two people in Federation outfits, a Thallonian, and a fourth whom Rier didn't recognize.
But Krul did immediately. “Him!” he said in alarm. “Rier ... that one assaulted me! The one with the long hair! And he's the one who killed my brother! He's just as Rier described him!”
“And he was on the Redeemer ship!” Vacu spoke up. “He was fighting Atik, when I took the girl!”
“Well well,” Rier said. “So you're the near-legendary Xyon. You have caused us a great deal of inconvenience.”
“We want the girl,” the Thallonian said. “Believe it or not, that's all we want. Then you can have this place to yourself. You can stay here and rot for all we care. Let her go. Otherwise—” and he held his phaser straight at Rier.
“Otherwise . . . what?”
It was a new voice, from another direction. Judging by the reaction of the Federation representatives, the owner of the voice was not someone they wanted or expected to see. It was another Thallonian, and he had a disruptor aimed squarely at the other Thallonian who was still aiming at Rier. The newly arrived Thallonian, though, was one Rier recognized. He had been back on Montos. They had endeavored to get information from him and he had resisted until the unexpected attack from the locals had driven the Dogs off. He had not provided them with so much as his name.
“Zoran,” said the Thallonian who was aiming at Rier. There was cold di
sdain in his voice.
“Si Cwan . . . milord,” Zoran added in a voice dripping with sarcasm. He glanced in the direction of the Dogs. “Your war vessel crippled my ship. I barely managed to bring it down in one piece. You did me quite a bit of inconvenience, for which I would like to take the opportunity to repay you. And you, Si Cwan ... you did not answer my question. Otherwise ... what?” His disruptor did not budge in its targeting of Si Cwan.
“Otherwise I will kill him. And you, if need be,” said Si Cwan.
“Not with that.” It had been Riella who had spoken. She didn't seem aware that Rier was gripping her arm. She didn't seem aware of anything, really. It was as if she had withdrawn completely into herself. “That weapon will not work here.”
“Oh, really,” said Zoran.
“Kally,” Si Cwan spoke directly to the girl. “Kally ... it's me. It's Si Cwan. Do you recognize me, Kally?”
“That weapon will not work here either,” she continued as if he hadn't spoken. “This is the Quiet Place. No weapons will function here.”
“Let's test that little notion, shall we?” said Zoran, and he squeezed the trigger of the disruptor that was aimed at Si Cwan.
Nothing happened.
Riella closed her eyes, closed them very, very tightly. The screaming had begun. She was the only one who could hear it, though. But that would change, very soon.
Soleta saw Zoran try to fire and saw that nothing happened. She looked at her own phaser and saw that the energy gauge was high. It had full power. She tried to fire it into the ground, just as a test. Nothing. She cast a confused glance at Kebron. Kebron, normally the most inscrutable of beings, was for once visibly confused, for his phaser likewise wasn't functioning.
“Kalinda!” Si Cwan called out, and took a step towards her.
The largest of the Dogs stepped in between Si Cwan and Rier and let out a warning snarl. He was a head taller and considerably wider than Si Cwan and looked to be a formidable opponent.
“Hold it, Vacu,” Rier said approvingly as he pulled Kalinda more tightly against him. His claws were at her throat. “I assure you all, that your phasers and disruptors may be nonfunctional, but my claws are working just fine. So all of you just stay right where you are, before it's—”