Hogan, James - Giant Series 04 - Entoverse (v1.1)

by Entoverse [lit]

  “They’ve disconnected ZORAC from the city net,” Jassilane said. “What do you make of it?”

  “I don’t know what to think. I thought Terrans were unstable enough,” Torres answered.

  “What are they trying to accomplish?”

  “Who knows? Perhaps they’re all mad.”

  “What about the situation here?”

  “There are police sealing off the spaceport area, and the Thuriens are protesting. I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Message via VISAR from Thurien,” ZORAC announced.

  “Yes?” Torres acknowledged.

  “Calazar will be through very shortly. Meanwhile, Earth has been alerted. They’re locating as many members of JPC as they can.”

  “Very good.”

  “What’s the last we know of the situation at PAC?” Jassilane asked.

  ZORAC answered. “Hunt and Gina were heading for an exit that was clear and open. Danchekker was still in the building. I’d lost track of Nixie. The rest had been detained.”

  “Hmm,” Jassilane murmured.

  Tones thought for a moment. “If Hunt and the woman got out, they could hardly remain at large in the city . . . Obviously they couldn’t go back to PAC.” He raised his voice. “ZORAC, do you have any idea where they’d be most likely to go?”

  ZORAC consulted the records accumulated from its illegal spying operations. “I’ve got some places where Hunt and Nixie talked a lot. One is a hotel, probably not worth considering. The other is a private address.”

  “Can you locate it?”

  ZORAC called up the city directory and plans of the layout from its data bank. “Yes, reference screen seven.” A cutaway view of part of the labyrinth appeared, with a residential block in one of the complexes shown highlighted. One of the apartments partway up in it was flashing. “It’s on this side of the center, not too far from PAC.”

  Tones looked at jassilane questioningly. “Not far from PAC,” Jassilane repeated. He nodded. “It’s a good bet. If they’re out, that’s where they’ll head for. Check it out.”

  “ZORAC, prepare another of the ship’s probes for immediate launch,” Tones ordered.

  At Murray’s, Danchekker and Nixie told their story.

  The officer in charge of the police contingent placed in the PAC front lobby had turned out to be one of Nixie’s regulars. After spotting him from a stairway that she had just descended, she had drawn him aside and was in the process of talking her way out, when Danchekker stormed out of one of the elevators, ranting and threat­ening everyone in sight. On an inspiration, Nixie told the officer that Danchekker was a sex therapist from Earth whom she was assisting in a study of Jevlenese customs. If she was found in the place, she told the officer pointedly, the Shiban chief of police and virtually all the city officials would be public jokes by morning—and guess whose ass would be on the line. She and Danchekker had been bundled quietly out a side door a few minutes later.

  After Hunt and Gina related their tale, Hunt went on to repeat the thoughts that he had just begun telling Gina when Danchekker and

  Nixie arrived. Murray didn’t know enough of the background for it to mean much to him, and Nixie couldn’t really follow without ZORAC. So, leaving the others to it, they went into another room to make some calls and see what further news they could gather of events at large.

  By the time Hunt finished, Danchekker was looking appalled. “Yes,” he whispered. “I can see it now . . . Such a world, with its inherent perils and insecurity, would account for the whole Ent nature. And it becomes clear how the idea of escaping to the world they saw through these visions could become their overriding obses­sion.”

  “But to escape, they needed hosts to escape into,” Hunt said. “And that, I believe, is why the jevienese were turned into system junkies. It kept them hooked into the system, and hence get-attable.”

  Danchekker nodded. “Their numbers grew with time, and the Jevlenese population became victims of what was surely the strangest alien invasion ever: an attack of information viruses from inside a computer, light—years away.”

  “Except, that was only the preliminary,” Hunt said soberly. He stabbed his finger in the direction of the door. “Outside, there are God knows how many couplers, waiting for the main system to be activated, and on Uttan there’s a caretaker crew of Thuriens expect­ing a shipload of religious pacifists who’ll dismantle the military installations.” Hunt shook his head emphatically. “That isn’t going to happen. Once Eubeleus neutralizes them and gets himself en­trenched, he’ll be able to make Uttan practically impregnable. And what do you think he’ll be doing once JEVEX is running again and we’re scratching our heads wondering how to get in?”

  The looks on Danchekker’s and Gina’s faces said there was no need for him to say.

  Hunt nodded. “You said a minute ago, Chris, that the Jevlenese were victims of an attack by alien information viruses out of a com­puter. But what happened before is nothing compared to what’ll happen if Eubeleus turns JEVEX on again. Unless we can stop him from getting to Uttan, this planet’s going to be hit by an epidemic!”

  So finally, it seemed, they had gotten to the bottom of what was going on, and why. But that did nothing to solve the problem of what to do next. Given the means, of course, the first thing would have been to contact the Thuriens and get Eubeleus stopped, but with ZORAC off the air they were incommunicado. So they examined what other options they had.

  Danchekker’s proposal was to head for the Thurien-controlled refuge at Geerbaine. If jevlenese were contesting that, they might be able to find some way of getting aboard the Shapieron, or failing that, maybe one of the Thurien ships.

  Hunt was less confident of their chances of getting there. “It’s the first place they’ll be looking,” he declared. “There’s already been trouble even in that area, and some of these cults are just looking for an excuse to get even with Terrans. I don’t like it, Chris.”

  “There’s been a lot of activity in that direction,” Murray, who had rejoined them by that time, confirmed.

  “What, then, do you suggest?” Danchekker invited.

  “We might be better off lying low in the city for a while,” Hunt said. “Maybe we’ll find a way of making contact in the meantime.”

  A worried look crossed Murray’s face. “I don’t know if it would be smart to stick around this place for too long,” he said. “If that Jev cop at PAC talked to Nixie, it’s not gonna need a genius to figure out where you’re probably holed up.”

  Silence fell, with nothing any closer to being resolved. Gina stood up and stretched to loosen her shoulders. “I haven’t eaten all day,” she said. “What kind of options do we have in that direction?”

  “I’m just about out,” Murray said. “I was about t~ stock up today. There are a couple of takeaway joints on the block. One’s an herbi­vore place that does a kind of soya greaseburger with seaweed pulp. The other’s the local idea of a deli.”

  Gina pulled a face as she recalled Sandy’s squid-slit sandwiches at PAC. “Scrambled eggs with corned-beef hash, sausage pate, and a side order of fries,” she murmured, staring wistfully at Murray’s wall poster of San Francisco.

  “Eggs over medium, bacon, mushrooms, and fried tomatoes,” Hunt sighed.

  “Yeah. . . it does kinda get to you after a while,” Murray agreed. “I might have a few cans of stuff from home left out back. Let me go take a look.”

  As he got up and moved to the door, the chime sounded from the panel again, and Lola’s voice said, “Osaya is calling from upstairs.”

  “Okay,” Murray said. A female Jevlenese voice came on, sounding excited, and Murray said something in reply. While they were talking, Nixie appeared in the doorway. “What’s she saying?” Murray asked her. “Something about a hat with a window?”

  Nixie talked to Osaya. “Oh, eprillin!” she announced, spotting his problem.

  “I thought that was a hat,” Murray said.

  “Yes. But also i
t means a kind of fish.”

  “So what’s the hell’s she talking about a fish with a window?”

  “She says there something that look like fish, up there outside window.”

  Murray shook his head. “Have they been smoking funny stuff up there, or something?

  “I go see.” Nixie exchanged a few more words with Osaya, then left.

  Murray went into the kitchen, and the others heard him open a cupboard and begin rummaging. Then came the sound of hard ob­jects being thumped down on the floor. “Say, waddya know!” his voice called through the doorway. “Genuine ham . . . And how about some Boston beans?”

  “I’ve never heard of fried tomatoes,” Gina said to Hunt. “Is that something else weird that the English do?”

  “Delicious,” Hunt said. “Especially on a slice of fried bread, with the juice soaking in. But what you really need to finish it off is a bit of black pudding.”

  “What’s black pudding?”

  “I rather think that the wise adage about sausages and politics applies even more in this instance,” Danchekker advised.

  At that moment Nixie’s voice came from the panel. “Murray, come see here. Bring Vic up.”

  Hunt sent Danchekker and Gina a puzzled frown, then rose. Murray stuck his head back through the doorway. “What is it?”

  “Come see,” Nixie’s voice said.

  Murray shrugged and withdrew. Hunt followed him out through the front door.

  They went up two flights and entered another apartment, situated on the opposite side of the stairwell. The interior was an orgy of feminine extravagance and brilliant colors, with fluffy pink floors that looked like cotton candy, couches and chairs finished in a variety of white, lilac, and red down, outrageously erotic murals, and black walls glowing with constantly changing Mandelbrot patterns. Inside was the tall girl whom Hunt had met before, apparently off-duty at the moment in a simple shirt with pants. She beckoned and led them through a room with an enormous bed, built-in Jacuzzi, and mirrors everywhere, to where Nixie was standing at a window framed by long, silky drapes. Hunt and Murray peered out.

  Below and to the sides was a jumble of interconnected roofs, with parts of various walkways and lower parts of the city visible in the spaces between. A roof enclosed the whole area above, with a web of transportation tubes and lighting installations hanging beneath, and two of the vast channels that cut across the city to carry airborne traffic receding into the distance. Whether there was more of the city above that, there was no way of telling.

  Hanging motionless in the air above an open area maybe a couple of hundred feet away was a drop-shaped, silver-gray object about the size of a small car. It was featureless except for a couple of ribs that flared into rudimentary fins at the tail end, and a cylindrical device on a retractable metal pylon, which seemed to be nodding inquisitively in their direction.

  “Ain’t never seen nothing like that before,” Murray said, staring at it, nonplussed.

  “Is police thing? Come look for us?” Nixie asked nervously.

  Hunt shook his head, and a faint smile softened his features. “It’s looking for us, but it’s not the police,” he said. “That’s one of the Shapieron’s reconnaissance probes. They must have figured out where we are.”

  “Shit, I hope the cops aren’t so fast,” Murray muttered.

  Hunt thought quickly. “Murray, is there any kind of portable communications gadget here-a remote pad for talking to the house system or something? If the Ganymeans figured this much out, they’ll be scanning for Jevlenese transmissions.” Murray consulted with Nixie, who said something to Osaya. Osaya went over to a bedside unit and came back with a tablet of what looked like veined, gray marble with gold inlaid designs and gold touchpads. She held it to the window and tried a few codes, then said something that sounded negative.

  “Does that talk to the city net?” Hunt asked Murray.

  ‘‘It should.”

  “Tell her to try fifty-six.”

  Murray passed it on, and Osaya tried again. Then a familiar voice said, “Ahah! We seem to be through. Hello, is anybody there?” Then it repeated itself in Jevlenese.

  Hunt grinned. “Hello, ZORAC. Not a bad piece of detective work. Was it your doing?”

  “Elementary, my dear Hunt. I’ve got Leyel Tones for you.”

  “Great.”

  Tones’s voice came through from the Shapieron. “Vic, you made it. Who else is there?”

  “Gina got out with me. And Chris Danchekker made it with Nixie. We don’t know anything about the others.”

  “I fear they’re in captivity,” Tones said. “We don’t understand the situation. What are the Jevlenese trying to do. Do you know?”

  “We think so, but it’s a long story. And it’s urgent. It needs to go to the top, to Calazar. Can you get him through VISAR?”

  “We’re talking to him right now,” Tones answered. “He’s getting together as many of JPC as he can raise. I’ll put you through to the Thurien circuit.”

  ZORAC’s voice said something in jevlenese, and Osaya tapped a code into the tablet. One of the mirrors facing the bed turned into a screen showing Tones standing in the Shapieron’s command deck against a background of crew positions manned by Ganymeans. “It looks as if you’ve found quite a home away from home there, Vic,” ZORAC commented.

  “Have they got hold of Caldwell?” Hunt asked, ignoring it.

  “He should be arriving soon,” ZORAC answered. “He was play­ing golf. It’s Sunday afternoon in Washington.”

  Then another minor turned into a view of Calazar in vivid, infor­mal clothes. “Dr. Hunt,” he said without preamble. “I feel that we are responsible for all this. What do these Jevienese at PAC want? They have deactivated the connection to VISAR there, and we have no access to them.”

  To one side, Murray was shaking his head wonderingly. “That’s Calazar, the Thurien head honcho, here in Osaya’s bedroom? I don’t believe this,” he muttered.

  “We’re pretty sure they’re only a smokescreen,” Hunt replied to Calazar. “They probably don’t know themselves what’s really going on. We’re certain that Eubeleus is at the back of it.”

  The sudden misgivings on Calazar’s face, even with its alien Gany­mean features, was unmistakable. “Why? Where does he fit into it?” he asked. Just then, he was joined on the screen by Porthik Eesyan, a Thurien scientific adviser whom Hunt and Danchekker also both knew of old.

  Murray nudged Hunt and nodded in the direction of the window. Outside, a police flier had appeared and was buzzing around the probe. The probe had deployed more antennae and drifted away to circle on a leisurely tour of the area, presumably in an effort to obscure the whereabouts of the location that it was communicating with.

  “Look, there might not be much time, so these are the facts,” Hunt said, looking back at the screens showing Calazar and Eesyan, and Tones. “The whole JEVEX business has been a fraud for years. JEVEX isn’t on Jevlen at all. The sites here are dummies and remote interfaces into it. The real guts of the system is all concentrated on Uttan. That’s what Eubeleus is really after—the business here is just a diversion. And if he gets control of it, this planet is going to be hit by an invasion of aliens that are stronger than anything any of us has ever dreamed of. We can go into the details later, but for now you have to believe it. Whatever else happens, you must stop him from getting to Uttan and turning that system back on. Tell him anything you like. This is one time to worry about ethics and principles later.”

  Hunt’s relief at the chance fluke that had given them this connec­tion so soon, just when everything had seemed lost, was such that he had talked on compulsively. But as he finished, the growing agitation that had been registering on the faces of the two Thuriens finally got through to him. A sudden pang of dread seized him ~s• he guessed, a split second before Calazar spoke, what he was going to say.

  “We can’t,” Calazar replied. “He’s already there. Eubeleus and his followers landed on Uttan�
�when was it, VISAR?”

  “Four hours ago,” VISAR’s voice replied through the audio.

  For several seconds Hunt could only stare back, his mind too paralyzed for him to speak. “He’s already there?” he repeated numbly.

  Calazar nodded miserably. “They’ve made fools of all of us. We Thuriens, I mean. Enough Terrans tried to warn us.”

  Hunt put a hand on his head unthinkingly, still in a daze. “Let’s worry about that later. Right now we’ve got an impending catastro­phe. This whole planet’s ready to reconnect to JEVEX, which isn’t here but at Uttan. And Eubeleus has got Uttan. What do we do?”