by Various
“Right. And that may explain the extinct terrestrial life: if something on the surface threatened the undersea life, they may have adjusted the environment so that it was hostile to the threat.”
“So how do we classify it?” Lester asked.
“We don’t. We leave that to the eggheads. Our job is to report it.”
I ran the ship close to the planet’s sun and baked it rotisserie style, in case any of the plankton was still alive on the outside of our ship. I did not want to take these guys home.
5
We headed back to Base and waited. On this layover, my best friend Jack and his partner Diego were also waiting for a mission. I’d known Jack for years. Jack had 19 missions. He was the only Scout who had anywhere near as many replacement parts as I did.
Diego arrived at Base a few months before Lester. Diego was a scrappy little guy. He liked to play a mean game of slap tag with Lester. Diego would sneak up behind Lester in the gym and smack him one good above the waistline where the skin is really sensitive. Then he’d run off trailing an insane, cackling giggle.
Lester would chase him around the exercise area cursing like a proper miner’s son. Lester was generally too slow to catch him. It was good for the big guy to learn his limits. Lester would end up with hand-shaped bruises all over his back. Occasionally Diego would be outwitted but more often he’d slip in a puddle of Lester’s sweat and get tackled. Lester would sit on Diego until he nearly passed out. It was great fun to watch.
Jack and Diego got their mission before us. A discovery ship had found signs of technology on their target planet. Nothing definite. They were supposed to confirm or deny intelligence. Turned out the natives were extremely intelligent. They ambushed Jack and Diego. The natives figured out the latch system of their suits and extracted them. Then the creatures carefully, minutely, dissected them alive with razor sharp stone tools. Diego’s suit camera recorded everything until it was splattered with blood. Suit mikes continued to transmit their ongoing screams.
When the ship confirmed that they were dead, it sterilized a kilometer around their bodies to ensure they didn’t contaminate the native population. Then it returned to Base.
I suppose it should have made me feel better knowing that the ones who got Jack and Diego were fried. It didn’t.
Lester and I cleaned up their rooms. Diego had piles of clean clothes on his bunk and a basket of dirty laundry in the corner. His desk was covered with pictures of his five-year-old daughter, the large brown eyes and ready smile engaging and harrowing. He’d hung the walls of his room with her drawings. Lester told me that Diego had joined the Scouts so that he could support her. We put together some of his things so the girl would have a remembrance of her father.
Jack’s room was orderly. We found his will under a paperweight on the top of his desk. In all the years I’d known him, I’d never heard Jack talk about family. He left everything in trust to Diego’s daughter. He’d never met the girl.
It’s times like this when I envy women. I remember when Miyuki lost a friend. She went on a two day crying jag and felt better afterward. Lester and I didn’t have that option. So we went to the bar that night. We ordered shots of Ouzo, made morbid toasts, downed the shots and remembered times with Jack and Diego. I helped Lester back to his room. He threw up and crashed on the floor. I sat propped in my bunk, world-spinning-around-my-head drunk, unable to sleep. We barely made the memorial service next day.
6
It was four months before our mission came up. When we left, Lester’s room was in order. This was 21 for me.
We sat on the bridge of the Scout ship and studied our next planet. It was blue. Not blue, green and brown—blue. What land there was barely registered on a planetary view.
Lester gazed at the globe open mouthed. “Why are we checking this place out? There’s no land for humans to live on.”
I zeroed in on the designated area of interest. “There’s an undersea plateau. If the planet’s suitable, they’ll haul in a couple of asteroids, orbit them around the planet, break them into pieces and use the pieces to build up the land level. I’ve seen it done before.”
“Why go to all that effort?”
“Aquaculture. They introduce Terran fish into the seas and harvest them later. It’s risky, but it can make huge profits.”
“What about the native lifeforms?”
“That’s where we come in. We’ve got to determine if there’s any chance of intelligence in this ocean. If we don’t find anything, they’ll introduce non-native species and probably destroy any native species that prey on the ones humans want to farm.”
“So unless we find something intelligent, this whole planet becomes one big fish farm?”
I patted Lester’s shoulder. “You can’t get too involved in these planets. We don’t make the ultimate decisions. You want to get involved in that, go into politics. But you’ll have to wait till you’ve finished your 25.”
There were a few small islands in the area of interest. We landed on the largest one. I’ve been in bars that were bigger. The surface of the island was bare. It was too small and insecure to develop a unique ecology. Other than sand and rock, there was only seaweed along the shore.
We disembarked the ship and started sampling the life on the shoreline. It was slimy. We kept falling down. We were both on the ground, laughing our heads off, trying not to slide into the ocean when the first tentacle emerged from the water. It rose nearly ten meters into the air and waved around, as if viewing the scene. We froze. A few dozen other tentacles joined it and made for the ship. They latched on and started pulling it toward the water.
The ship is not small. They were not making headway until the tentacles started oozing slime, which greased the path. Our ship rapidly went underwater.
Lester’s voice was on the verge of cracking. “Aidan, what do we do now?”
The tip of a tentacle reemerged from the water. “Make for the highest point—on the double.” We ran for the peak of the island as fast as the slime would let us. The tentacles reacted to our movement. Seeing one coming, I stopped Lester. “Lock arms. Turn on your static field.”
The tentacle reached within a meter of us and got a jolt from the field. It backed off. We sidled closer to the peak, arm-in-arm.
Tentacles came at us in waves. Our field held. They retreated.
Lester was breathing hard. “Ok, how do we get the ship back?”
“The remote will work through water. Keep looking for tentacles.” I called up the display for the ship’s remote control. It responded instantly. The ship was 300 meters below the surface. I told it to kick in the antigrav. There was initial resistance. It broke the surface with a huge tentacled passenger. I stopped it a few meters above the water. The passenger decided to give up and dropped back into the ocean. I maneuvered the ship close to us.
That was when the tentacles attacked again. I initiated the static field on the ship. That blocked us, as well as the creatures, from approaching it. The tentacles probed the edges of the fields, searching for a weak spot. A few tried to dig under only to find the field extended below us into the sand.
“Aidan, this is draining my power pack.”
“Mine too.”
“You make a run for it, I’ll cover you.”
“Don’t get brave, Lester. That’s how people die. We’ll both make a run for it.” I opened the outer hatch on the ship and waited.
After a couple of minutes, there was a brief lull. I cut the ship’s field. “Cut your field and run.” We dove into the hatch just as the tentacles took advantage of the absence of the field. The tentacles dragged the ship partway to the water before I got the hatch shut and the field back on. I engaged the anti-gravs and was in orbit before the decontamination cycle completed.
Lester flopped into the co-pilot’s chair. “Do we ever get one that’s boring?”
“I’ve heard of a couple; only a couple.” There was a lull while both of us caught our breaths. “Thanks for of
fering to cover my ass. It wasn’t smart, but it was brave.”
Lester shrugged. “Isn’t that what partners do?”
“Yes and no. They watch each other’s backs but try to make sure that both of them make it out alive.” I walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, partner.”
Lester smiled.
I pulled up the video from the ship’s sensors. What had gone on beneath the water’s surface interested me. The video showed a concerted attack. The creatures were trying to either bend the ship or bang it against a rock in order to break its shell. The rock had been worked to a sharp point. They must have thought something that big had a lot of food inside. The work was methodical.
Lester leaned forward. “Look at the colors and patterns on their skins.”
The undulating bodies were covered with spots that changed shape and color. “Communications, tools and coordinated actions; there’s at least a modicum of intelligence.”
Lester smiled. “So this planet will be off-limits.”
“Looks that way.” I shut off the video. “You seem mighty happy.”
“It didn’t look like the kind of world we should be messing with.”
“Well, you win this time.”
I started the pre-flight sequence. An alarm went off. I turned on the navigation displays. The landing gear was damaged. It couldn’t retract, so the ship couldn’t go into hyperdrive. “We’re stuck. Let’s contact the Mercury.”
The Mercury is a tiny, hyperdrive ship. It’s more a messenger to the gods than a messenger from them. Since you can’t get past the Einstein limits in regular space, communication at stellar distances is either deadly slow or works something like a message in a hyperbottle. Mercury is the hyperbottle. We leave it in orbit above the planets we explore so we can send it back home with an emergency message no matter what happens.
I recorded a message and sent Mercury off to Base. We now had three weeks before a rescue vessel would come. I went to my bunk and got a deck of cards. “Okay, kid, gin rummy, centicredit a point.”
Lester pulled out a tray between the two pilot’s chairs and gave me a wry smile. “You sure you want to do this again? At the rate you’re going, you’ll have to get a job after your 25 just to pay me back.”
“You’ve been having a run of good luck. That’ll change.”
Lester had never played cards before he met me. He was adaptable. By the time we got back, I was down another 20 credits.
7
The wait till mission 22 was almost six months. Neither of us got injured on the last mission, so we spent our time building skills rather than rehabilitating.
During the lull, the passenger liner arrived. A chamber orchestra was onboard and the folks in charge of Base managed to talk them into doing a one-night stand. This generally involves sizable sums of cash. That seems to be one thing the Scouts have plenty of.
The orchestra was great. I sat next to Lester, who spent the evening with Marina tucked securely under one of his big arms. There was an empty seat on the other side of me. I remembered the last time I’d heard Mozart—Miyuki sat beside me. We’d held hands discretely (partners aren’t supposed to get involved). Now, as the haunting, perfect strains of late Mozart swept over me, I felt alone.
• • •
The big brass called us in for a talk before the next mission. That’s almost always a bad sign. They shoved us into a debriefing room and left us for close to an hour. I knew the routine, so I’d brought a pack of cards. The arrival of the two officers saved me from a five credit loss. Lester was getting too lucky.
We stood and saluted. They told us to sit, but the tension in the room didn’t fade.
The older of the two officers was a full colonel. I could tell with my artificial eye that he was about half bionic. Some folks never give up. “This mission is somewhat delicate,” he said. I tried not to groan. “You will not be setting foot on the planet.” I perked up. “We’ve already determined the planet has intelligent life. The planet was explored around a hundred years ago. At that time, the local culture was using gunpowder weapons.” I wanted to ask why the hell we were going to a hostile planet with advanced technology, but kept my mouth shut. “We recently sent out another probe to see how far they’d advanced. The locals destroyed that probe while it was orbiting their planet.”
I gave a little whistle. “They’ve gone from cannons to rockets in a century?”
The colonel nodded. “That took humans close to five hundred years. What was even more worrying was that the impact weapon that destroyed our probe was made of depleted uranium.”
I looked at Lester, who shook his head, then back to the colonel. “My chem lectures were a couple of decades ago.”
The younger officer, a captain, but also a veteran of his 25 I judged by the level of spare parts, took up the lecture. “Uranium 238. It’s one of the densest naturally occurring materials. Makes a great impact weapon. But U238 doesn’t show up in nature by itself; it’s always mixed with a couple of other isotopes. The only reason you’d go to the trouble of separating out U238 would be to concentrate the U235 isotope, which is the one used in primitive nuclear fission reactors and bombs.”
Lester’s eyes were wide. “You’re sending us to a planet where they’ve already knocked out one of our probes and they have rockets and nuclear bombs?”
The colonel sat back and let out a long sigh. “Yes. At the rate their progressing technologically, they could have hyperdrive in another hundred years. The last probe managed to send out the information it had gathered before it self-destructed, and it indicates a highly dysfunctional civilization that is fractured and xenophobic. We need to know how far along they are and what kind of civilization they really have.”
I looked at the captain. “Didn’t the probe have some kind of shielding?”
“Just basic. We weren’t expecting the natives to have anything more advanced than telescopes.”
“What are you sending us in with?”
“The most advanced ship we have. We’re not taking anything for granted this time.”
So a week later, we were off in the best Scout ship yet built. Twice the size of our usual craft, it was long, sleek and beautiful, but more important, it had shields that could withstand a small supernova and enough cloaking to fool major planetary defenses.
The brass hadn’t let us see the reports on the planet before we left—probably didn’t want scary details leaking out. Lester loaded the reports as soon as the ship left orbit. I looked over his shoulder. “They’re kind of cute.”
Lester advanced to some gruesome pictures. “Sort of like old Earth bears only with a really bad attitude. They’re highly territorial outside of their extended family lineages. Their method for handling disagreements is genocide. The first probe sent remotes to the surface and caught them blowing their neighbors to bits. Taking prisoners doesn’t seem to be one of their concepts.”
The pictures were stomach-churning. “Did the second probe get any data before it got hit?”
“Yeah. Looks like they’ve formed the equivalent of nation states on the various continents. It detected numerous bursts that were probably chemical bombs. They’ve just moved the scale of violence up in the last century.”
“Did it send back an electromagnetic spectrum analysis?”
Lester checked the index and brought up the display. “Why is this important?”
“Go back to your History of Technology course: humans used radio waves to transmit information for hundreds of years.” I pointed to several activity peaks on the chart. “And so are our bears. We can sit a comfortable distance away and monitor them. I definitely do not want to get anywhere close to the surface of this planet.” Lester was all for that.
We came out of hyperspace behind a neighboring gas giant planet and maneuvered into an orbit with one of the target planet’s moons between us and the bear’s instruments. There was evidence the bears had sent probes to their moons but hadn’t established permanent set
tlements or active sensors.
An impressive amount of radio traffic made it through their ionosphere. Audio, video and data, much of it encrypted, was coming from all the major land masses. Using the linguistic data from the first probe, we soon had translations for some of the feeds. Most of the unencrypted transmissions seemed to be propaganda: momma bear and poppa bear have to defend baby bear against those other nasty bears that want to kill him. The most ominous messages said, “We won’t be the first bears to use nuclear weapons, but we sure as hell will use them if some other bear does.”
Nuclear hotspots on most of the continents indicated that our bear friends had been testing their technology and had something that worked.
We deployed a heavily cloaked drone to determine how many weapons existed on the planet. The drone had to fly through a maze of debris from recently destroyed satellites. It made it through undetected and tracked the number, placement and movement of weapons. A rapid buildup was turning the planet into a nuclear waste dump.
We stayed two weeks. It would have been impossible to send a probe to the ground, given the paranoid nature of the populace. As we decrypted the most heavily scrambled messages, it looked like war was imminent. Neither of us wanted to stay and watch the carnage. We left the probe orbiting a safe distance away and went home.
No one seemed surprised by our findings. The colonel and the captain nodded gravely and said that this confirmed the data from the earlier, destroyed probe. The man from the Colonization Bureau who’d been with them during our debriefing spilled the beans. He said, “If we don’t act immediately, we’ll lose this world.”
The older colonel grabbed the man’s elbow. “These Scouts don’t need to hear about these plans.”
Lester stood up. “You’ve already got a plan for this planet?”
I sat for a second putting two and two together. I didn’t like the sum. “You’re going to colonize that planet. But first you’ve got to get rid of the indigenous population.”
The man from the Colonization Bureau looked at me as if I were some congenital imbecile. “They’re as good as dead already. There’s no use wasting a perfectly good planet. Do you know how few we get each year?”