The Gates of Hell

by Chris Kennedy

  “I expect you to care for it now,” the Wrogul said to Srentaal’s back. “It’s your responsibility. You’ll tell me if there’s anything needed to keep it alive.” He turned and slid over to Karilisan and said quietly, “I thought about putting it down, of course, but then it occurred to me that Srentaal needed something to, well, ensure good behavior. The pup is perfect. For the Besquith, the mother instinct is undeniable. Zuul are rational, and you’ll accept the situation, but a Besquith? No, she needed something more. I need to go; I have other things I need to work on.” He headed toward the exit and continued to himself, “I think I’ll end up having to go with pure Besquith if I’m going to get a guard force. We’ll just have to work on that pack loyalty…” the voice went on until cut off by the door closing behind the Wrogul.

  There was a buzz and a click, and both cell doors opened. Karilisan quickly moved over to the other cell. “Srentaal? Let me see,” he said quietly.

  She turned, and for the first time since he’d woken in the cells, Karilisan saw a look of peace in her eyes. There were lines there, but she seemed almost relaxed. In her arms the small bundle of fur moved, resting against her ribs. He could see the chest expanding, contracting, as the tiny pup breathed.

  “Look,” she whispered. She turned it onto its back in her arms, and its paws waved as if in protest at being disturbed. “Small…but strong.”

  Something heaved in the Zuul’s chest. He looked down on this new life, and his heart, thudding in his ears, threatened to deafen him. However strange a path it had taken, this life, this fusion of Besquith and Zuul, of Srentaal and Karilisan, was his. His responsibility, his pack, his pup. His decision was made.

  He quickly turned, striding back into his cell to retrieve the slate. It was time. He’d had the last five days to think about it and knew exactly what needed to be done. There was a data run and an access node behind one of the monitors. Grabbing some adhesive tape from the lab table, he stepped over to the monitor. Reaching under and behind it, he attached the two parasite leads to the cabling and activated the infiltrator program. He verified the dataflow, and then secured the slate between the monitor and the wall. The Wrogul would have to crawl behind the monitor to have any chance of seeing it.

  He then went to the Besquith and told her his plan. He’d allow the slate to map out the facility, as well as the surrounding area, if possible. The Wrogul had to have some significant transport capability, at the very minimum a shuttle. Once they knew where it was, they could steal it and head for the stargate. If there wasn’t a ship to attach to, they could bribe the gate master to smuggle out a message. He’d seen enough of the recovered artifacts to know that he could easily proffer a significant bribe—something that would cause even a jaded Sumatozou to sit up and take notice.

  He’d hoped he could raise Srentaal’s morale, but she looked up from the pup and smiled sadly at him. “Not work, packmate.” She was losing some of the words again. “Cannot leave. With him. Alive. In our heads, in our ‘plants.” She shook her head. “Not free until Wrogul dies.”

  He sat heavily on the pallet next to her. She was right. They could get out of the tower and halfway to their theoretical ride out, and the Wrogul could just shut them down through their compromised pinplants as quick as a thought. They were still trapped.

  * * *

  A few days later, the Wrogul came in to examine the pup. After taking some measurements, he cleaned his work area and secured his tools into a locking container. “I think that’s enough for today,” he said to the Besquith. “The pup seems to be growing quite fast, but other than that, it appears fairly normal. In fact, it’s showing some very promising and unexpected traits. Once it gets a little more mass on it, we should be able to do some testing.”

  Srentaal answered with a low growl.

  “Oh, relax,” the Wrogul said, waving a tentacle dismissively. “I’m talking about measurements and reaction times. OK, maybe some blood draws, but that’s completely normal! It probably happens back home all the time on Besto, or whatever your homeworld is. Normal examinations for offspring!”

  “As for you…” he turned to Karilisan. “I’ll be spending the afternoon at the dig. I found some interesting crystals down there that could be a data storage system. You have rations and water in here. Finish cleaning the work areas. I’ll probably be back tomorrow.”

  The Wrogul left, and Karilisan waited half an hour before retrieving the slate. He quickly queried the infiltration program, which had made short work of the security on most of the databases. There were two areas still blocking access, Security Systems and Slate. With a start, he realized Srentaal was looking over his shoulder.

  “Karsan,” she said, slurring through his name again. “Sec’rity S’tems.” Security Systems. “Locks.”

  She was right. Control of the Security Systems at minimum would give him the doors, and probably the cameras as well. Once he had that, he could get physical access to anything else he needed, and that would get them out. “I’ll need to write another program,” he told her. ‘Security Systems’ and ‘Slate’ had stopped the infiltrator cold. “Now that I have access, we can use his own systems to burn through a lot faster than we could before.” He started organizing his thoughts. First he’d need to break the lockout, then he’d need to map out the Security database, and finally gain control of the doors and locks. It looked pretty straightforward, and he could grab sections of the code he’d written before.

  “Weapons,” Srentaal stated. She was right. There was no doubt they’d need weapons, as well. They had to drop the Wrogul before he realized what had happened. If he had so much as one clear instant of thought to recognize the threat, his access to their pinplants would stop them. To attack the Wrogul without weapons would be a death sentence.

  He looked over at the Besquith, and he could see it in her eyes as well. There was no escape possible, especially with the pup, while the Wrogul lived. The eye contact was broken by a snuffling bark. The puppy was awake, and Srentaal glided back into her cell. “Have you named it yet?’ he asked.

  “Him. It is male. For Besquith, pups are all born gammas, and selection comes later. But not this one. He,” she said, emphasizing the word, “is unique.” She paused. “His name must honor us both, both our clans, both our species. It’s important, and I must think on it. But soon.”

  Karilisan suddenly realized, whenever she spoke of the pup, her language problems almost completely disappeared. She returned to her cell, and Karilisan returned to his programming. Hours later, he put the slate down on the table. His mind was numb from the work, and he turned toward his own cell.

  Srentaal saw his movement and asked, “What progress?”

  “It’s going.” He shrugged. “I think I have it all in place, but I’m exhausted. I’m making mistakes. Right now I’ve got it attacking the Security System locks, and once we’re through there, it’ll start working on the door controls. But I’m forgetting something, and I’m too tired to see it. I need to lay down for a few minutes and think about something else.”

  “I have a name.”

  “What?”

  “A name. One to honor us both. Taali-kar. He is already unique, but he is both of us. Taali-kar.”

  “Srentaal, he’s beautiful.”

  * * *

  The Zuul woke on his pallet and saw they weren’t alone. The Wrogul moved through the bars and pipes of the den, and occasionally paused to check various projects.

  The Wrogul looked over. “Ah! You’re awake! I may actually take you outside tomorrow. I’ve found some items that would certainly be easier to move if there were two of us.” The Wrogul continued to swing through, stopping in front of his cage for a moment and then moving over to Srentaal’s.

  “I see the pup is still alive. I think it will probably be sterile, but it might be worth the effort to harvest some genetic material. No telling what we might be able to gain.”

  Karilisan stood and leaned against the cell door. Locked. It wasn’t
really surprising. He doubted the Wrogul would be in here if he hadn’t secured the cells first. He leaned into the bars and relaxed. “What have you found?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. It looks like part of an emitter array. It has a focusing dish. It could be communications, but it could be a weapon.” The Wrogul had swung over the table in front of Srentaal’s cell and continued to chatter, partly to Karilisan, partly to himself.

  The Zuul started to tune him out. His eyes wandered and stopped on the slate. He’d left it out on the table. The Wrogul hadn’t noticed it yet, but would that last? The adrenaline surge made it hard to think. He had to get the Wrogul away from it, and out of the den! “I worked on emitters!” he said quickly. “All the time! That might be something. I mean, I did operations, maintenance, installs…I know ‘em!”

  The Wrogul turned and worked his way back toward the Zuul’s cell. Stopping above him, he said, “Really? That might make you useful, after all. This could be good news for both of us, because frankly, you haven’t shown much value lately. I was…”

  The slate beeped, and the Wrogul froze.

  He turned and swung back across the den. “What’s this? This shouldn’t be here! What are you trying to do?” Hanging down over the slate, he turned back to Karilisan. “I see. Now that I query the systems, I can even see what you’ve been up to, you stupid little Zuul. I think it’s time for you to die…”

  The slate beeped again, and the Besquith’s cell door swung open. Srentaal burst through the door and struck the Wrogul in a blur. Midflight she started to howl, and Karilisan joined her, fire in his brain and his missing hand as the Wrogul lashed out through the pinplants. Besquith and Wrogul tumbled through the air and struck a window, breaking it from the frame. They fell through and… Karilisan passed out.

  * * *

  He woke to a blinding, spiking headache. He rose, growling, and clutched his hand and stump to the sides of his head, trying to hold his skull together. Something was different. A smell of outside. A breeze. He looked up and across the den. He realized his door was open, and he was alone. He staggered across the room, heading for the opening where a window used to be. As he drew close, he hesitated. He didn’t want to look, but he had to. He had to know. He stepped to the window and looked down.

  He could just make out the bodies below. Neither had survived the fall. Srentaal’s words echoed in his mind, “He’s in my head, in my ‘plants. I can never be free…we must kill him here, or die.”

  She had found her freedom and given him his.

  The slate beeped again. He stared at it for a full minute, mind hardly working, before walking across to it. He looked at the readout. The network was completely open to him now. As suspected, the Wrogul had a transport. The slate database listed the specifics of a shuttle and a ship in orbit. A ship large enough to use stargates.

  Karilisan looked out the window again. He was free. He had a way home. All of it a gift from Srentaal.

  A quiet wuffing from her cell drew his attention. Out of the rags a small head appeared, yawning. The pup.

  Karilisan crossed the room and gathered the pup into his arms. “Little Taali-kar, Srentaal’s final gift. Come. Let us go,” he whispered. “When you’re older, I’ll tell you of your mother…”

  The Zuul left the den, cradling his son in his arms.

  * * * * *

  Dan Bridgwater Bio

  Some of Dan’s earliest memories include watching Godzilla movies and Star Trek re-runs on television. This love of monster movies and TV SciFi eventually led to his reading just about every bit of science fiction and fantasy he could get his hands on. An Army Brat and a Marine Veteran, Dan has lived on both coasts, the Midwest, Korea, and Kuwait. He now lives with his wife and daughters in Colorado, where he supports training for the US Military.

  * * * * *

  Fire from Fire Quickened by Rob Howell

  “Sell me the African Queen,” I said to Peacemaker Rhan’Tlanit’Tala, my new boss.

  The Cochkala blinked, and a message icon appeared on my pinplant. “Read that first.”

  It was a bill of sale showing a “Casablanca Enterprises” had acquired the ship.

  “Who’s Casablanca Enterprises?” I asked.

  “You are.” He flicked his tail in his race’s form of a shrug. “Or rather, you have controlling interest.”

  “I don’t recall being part of such a firm.”

  “I may not have your skills with electronic intelligence, Mr. Blaine, but being a Peacemaker has some power.”

  “How much money do I owe you?”

  He named a figure. “However, I’ll waive that if you pay for the upkeep, fuel, and crew costs for two years of service as a Peacemaker. It’ll look better that way, anyway.”

  “And who are the other investors?”

  “Myself and Kiial.”

  “He has no idea about this either, does he?”

  “My nephew performed well, by all respects. It wouldn’t do for his actions to go unrewarded. On GrBatch, any recognition given to him by the Foresters would be irrelevant. An uncle opening up a Galactic corporation and giving him stock, on the other hand, is a clear sign among Cochkala of approval.”

  “Does that mean you approve of me?”

  “I do, though I didn’t make this arrangement entirely for your benefit.”

  “You expected me to accept your offer.”

  “Yes. We’re going after Kukuluki the Zuparti, a task for which you’ll be very useful. He has much to answer for.”

  I shook my head. “I’m going after HR.”

  “HR?”

  “The people who killed my old boss.”

  “Ah, yes. HR. Human Resources, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “What a horribly inappropriate name for them, should my data prove correct.”

  “And what does your data tell you?”

  “It tells me that the Peacemaker Guild wishes to avoid provoking them.”

  “The Guild wishes to avoid them?” My mouth dropped open.

  “Yes. There are hints that Galactic influences controlled those behind your previous employer. Powerful influences.”

  “Hints such as?”

  He pointed his tail at my sweeper. “Such as that technology.”

  I glanced at it. “Bullitt was a genius.”

  “Not that much. Your sweeper has technology the Information Guild possesses. Many steps beyond Human technology, even for a genius.”

  “He was a good man. He didn’t deserve to die that way.”

  “Good beings often die, usually in a way they shouldn’t. Such things are not necessarily the concern of the Peacemakers.”

  “I can’t just let it go.”

  “And I can’t, as a Peacemaker, assign you to cases which are not within the jurisdiction of our Guild.”

  “Then what do you want me to do?” I snarled. “As a Peacemaker.”

  “What is it you already do?” He flicked his tail about. “What was that phrase your former employer used?”

  “We deal in elint, friend.”

  “And that’s exactly what I want you to do for me. You’re to return to Earth and see what you can discover about Captain Gregg.”

  I cocked my head. “He, too, is a good man. How’s Gregg a concern of the Peacemakers where Bullitt is not? Has he dropped a missile from over ten miles up or released some sort of bioweapon I’m unaware of?”

  “No. He’s done nothing to warrant the attention of the Peacemakers in any legal sense. However, we know someone threatened his mother to prompt his betrayal of the Foresters on Peninnah, and we know Kukuluki was behind that attack. We also have evidence that Kukuluki attacked my nephew during his training, and that is definitely something the Peacemakers care about. How can we do our jobs if our families are held hostage?”

  “You want me to use Gregg to get to Kukuluki.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you don’t care about Captain Gregg.”

  “I don’t. I care onl
y about the Zuparti, who I’ll investigate using all my resources. Including you. His problems are ancillary to the interests of the Peacemakers, but there might be a connection here, and that must be investigated.”

  “And if I can help Gregg?”

  “If such actions don’t hinder your primary mission, the Peacemakers care not. The Guild only cares about Kukuluki and those allied to him. We must unravel those knots before our tails are entwined.”

  I sighed. “You’re colder than I am. I’m not sure I shouldn’t quit right now. I have…debts to pay.”

  The Cochkala swept his tail about in a broad gesture. “What Rhan’Tlanit’Tala the Peacemaker does is one thing. What Tlanit the Cochkala does is another. There are times when Tlanit can do things the Peacemaker cannot. For example, he could send his nephew to a Human mercenary unit and purchase weapon upgrades for that unit.”

  He pointed his tail at me. “And consider this. While HR may be something we can’t touch at this moment, we can gather information that might be useful at some future point.”

  “Very well.”

  “I believe you shouldn’t hide your new employment. Being a Peacemaker opens some doors you might not otherwise be able to open, and it should provide some protection from retribution. At the very least, should someone know you’re a deputy Peacemaker and still strike at you…”

  “That would allow you to bring all the might of the Peacemaker Guild to bear, no matter who it was and how powerful their defenses might be.”

  With eyes sharp as a laser designator, the badger flicked his tail. “Precisely.”

  * * *

  I spent the two weeks of the flight back to Earth reviewing all I had on Captain Gregg. Between what Lyons had gotten, intel from Tlanit, and downloading the Foresters’ entire database, I had quite a bit.