by Dan Worth
‘Simple. We know Isaacs is in all probability within this system. I say that I make him another job offer. If he responds, it’ll save us a lot of time and effort. I’ll send an email to him, using the form and code-words we used on his previous job. Next time he docks, his ship will pick it up.’
‘Assuming he docks at a station with a hypercom node. If he’s consorting with pirates, they may not.’
‘Oh, they will. Piracy thrives on information. They’d need to hack into the shipping data for this system in order to plan their raids. My bet is that any pirate base would have a heavily disguised and firewalled link to the hypercom net. We tell Isaacs to meet us at Barstow at an appointed time with the promise of another lucrative contract and we see if he shows up. Even if he just replies and refuses it’s a start. We can trace the origin of the message. If not, we search the system, but you can appreciate why I’d rather not.’
‘And the mystery that Admiral Cox has presented you with, ma’am?’
‘Cox is up to something on the surface of Rhyolite, Commander. He was very intent about withholding information about it from both Admiral Haines, ourselves and our outfit. I want to know what he’s up to. If we dock at Barstow we may be able to take a sly look at what’s going on down there. He said that they’ve found some ancient alien technology and that all those ships are here for the sole purpose of defending it. But he was very evasive when I attempted to press him further on the details.’
‘Commander Hasan said that he was worried about what was going on on the moon.’
‘Yes indeed. I’m starting to wonder what we’ve stumbled across.’
‘There’s no record of this operation in the classified despatches?’
‘None, which is what makes me uneasy, Commander. Cox appears to be pursuing his own agenda here.’
The Churchill emerged from her jump near to Barstow Station and came to a dead stop just outside the traffic control zone. Having been assigned a designated parking position in the space around the station, the massive carrier slowly nosed its way into the busy shipping lanes that converged on the slowly revolving habitat.
On board, Chen sat in her office putting the final touches to her job offer to Isaacs. Using the coded language she had already used on his previous communications, she promised him further work if he docked with the Churchill within the next twenty four hours or if he simply replied to her message. The ship would remain at Barstow for the duration. The language used in the message would make no sense to a casual observer. Although Isaacs’ email address was a standard public one, anyone else intercepting the message would not be able to decipher the hidden meaning in the email. To anyone but her and Isaacs, the message would seem fairly innocuous. The message completed, she sent it to his address and crossed her fingers.
Returning to the bridge she found Haldane waiting for her.
‘We’ve assumed a parking position near the station, Admiral. What now?’ he asked.
‘Draw up a list of the twenty nearest asteroidal bodies in eccentric orbits that are over half a kilometre in length. Launch our recon wings to check them out for signs of habitation.’
‘Yes Admiral. Lieutenant O’Rourke?’ he turned to the young officer at navigation. ‘Pull up the system chart and start compiling that list.’
‘Already on it sir,’ O’Rourke replied, his eyes focused on the screen in front of him.
‘Good,’ said Haldane, and turned back to Chen. ‘Admiral, with respect: Surely our presence here will not go unnoticed? Any undesirables in the system will surely have gone to ground.’
‘Yes, unavoidable I’m afraid. Have Commander Blackman take a squad aboard the station, out of uniform. If they hang around a few of the seedier bars they might be able to pick up something. If our presence is causing a stir I’d like to know who is talking about us and why. I’m sure local law enforcement might be able to help us locate such places.’
‘Very good, I’ll see to it.’
‘In the meantime, I’d like Lieutenant Commander Singh here to keep a track of all navy and government registered ships travelling to and from the surface of Rhyolite. I want to know where they’re landing down there.’
‘Admiral Cox didn’t tell you the location of his operation?’
‘No.’
‘The Navy operates on a need to know basis after all.’
‘Yes indeed. But our rather unique role requires that we do need to know. I’m going on my instincts here Commander. Something about this situation doesn’t feel right at all.’
Chen busied herself with the information that Commander Hasan had provided them with. The reports on the Hidden Hand spoke of a highly organised pirate organisation that had been present in this system and a handful of neighbouring ones for nearly two years. Ships had been disappearing all over this part of space. Attacks had increased in intensity and frequency over the past six months but had shifted sole focus to the Hadar system. Naval intelligence efforts had so far failed to locate a base of any kind, but based on the frequency of the attacks and the types of ships involved, they believed it to lie somewhere in the vast outlying regions of the system. What was clear, however, was that the Hidden Hand had considerable resources and personnel at their disposal including a large fleet of modern ships, detailed intelligence on civilian and military shipping and highly accurate navigational information of this entire sector which they used to their advantage to both surprise their victims and shake off pursuers.
The carrier Germanicus and its battle group under the command of Admiral Cox had been dispatched to the system six months previously to deal with the escalating problem. Although Cox had been unable to track down the Hidden Hand to their lair, his use of Thea class reconnaissance frigates had yielded some disturbing results: mysterious ships that appeared fleetingly on their instruments and moved at speeds unmatched by human vessels. Cox’s conclusion had been that these vessels and the Hidden Hand were connected somehow, that an alien power was aiding these pirates to wage a proxy war against the Commonwealth and its interests in this part of space. His theories were, as yet, unproven, although a correlation between the appearance of these ships and attacks on Commonwealth shipping had been tenuously established.
Chen browsed through the files, and noticed with a start that Hasan had appended other documents. She read Cox’s request for a Marine assault carrier five months earlier.
To: Admiral Jeffrey Morgan, Naval Joint Chief of Staff
From: Vice Admiral Charles Cox, CNV Germanicus
Following the discovery of the alien vessel on the moon of Rhyolite (Hadar B5c) request the deployment of a Marine assault carrier to the system. Additional ground, atmospheric and space forces required for the defence of the site and the construction of a suitable habitat for the housing of my research team. It is vital that we secure this prize for the Commonwealth. Rumours of the supposed psychological effects of working on the alien vessel since we began the operation a month ago have proved to be little more than that. The unfortunate death of contracted civilian engineer Solanki has been attributed to an aneurism and is not being treated as suspicious.
--Message Ends---
An alien ship? So that was what Cox had found on the moon... Hasan had said that he was worried about what was happening on the moon hadn’t he? Now he had shown her evidence of what Cox had found and of a death having occurred. She found another document below. This time it was a list of vessels attacked by the Hidden Hand over the previous six months. She scrolled down it. Over three dozen vessels had been attacked, with roughly two thirds of them destroyed, including a couple of warships, the cruiser Cato and the frigate Anaxes. The others were all Navy cargo vessels, commercial transports and private vessels. She noticed an important detail. All of the vessels had been travelling to the vicinity of Rhyolite and all of them had been carrying military cargoes, not just the Navy ships. All of the others had been chartered by the Navy to transport men and material to the moon. All had been attacked by the Hidden Hand.
Th
ere was a third and final document. It amounted to a casualty list from the site on Rhyolite. Over twenty individuals had been hospitalised with chronic hallucinations, waking nightmares, insomnia or stress related complaints so severe that they had been unable to work. Two deaths were also listed, that of the engineer who had died of an aneurism and a Marine who had simply walked out into the moon’s poisonous atmosphere and removed his suit helmet.
Whatever Cox had found down there, it was killing his men. Not only that, but it looked like the Hidden Hand were trying in vain to stop him. No doubt Commander Hasan knew only too well, or at least he had heard enough rumours, as to what was going on and he was trying to alert her. She needed as much information as possible before she in turn reported back to Haines. Hopefully Singh’s monitoring of the traffic going to and from the moon would yield some results as to the location of Cox’s secret project.
Chapter 21
Isaacs stayed with Anna until the small hours of the morning. They spent the time getting re-acquainted with another. Anna showed him around the base, through the warren of tunnels and compartments in the rock that bustled with the comings and goings of as broad a spectrum of people from the fringes of the space-borne life as Isaacs had ever seen. Humans, Hyrdians, Vreeth, Xeelin, even a couple of K’Soth and Esacir wandered the halls. Pilots, engineers, traders, pimps, drug dealers, arms traffickers, spies, hustlers and minor aristocracy from a hundred worlds co-existed alongside one another within Port Royal.
Were it not for the obvious criminal element it was almost a model collectivised community. Even so, it appeared at first glance to be a fairly harmonious place despite the presence of shadier elements. All were united in a common cause, as all had experienced the Shapers’ predations. Some, like the pilots and engineers, were in front line of the fight, crewing and repairing the Hidden Hand’s fleet of combat vessels. Others like the arms dealers and traders supplied them with weapons and supplies, whilst some, like the pimps and drug dealers operated throughout the sector providing certain entertainments to those in need of them out here in this distant outpost.
Anna took him for a meal in the amazingly well provisioned mess and for a walk in the hydroponic gardens at the heart of the asteroid, where fruit trees and small regular fields of carefully tended crops served both as a means of self sufficiency and a place of relaxation. Right now, in the middle of the night-cycle, the dimly lit gardens resounded to the night calls of imported creatures as they flitted amongst the plant life that filled the air with mingling heavy scents.
It amazed Isaacs how after such a long time apart and after all that had happened between them that they felt so comfortable in each others’ presence. He had expected their meeting to be awkward at best. Instead, it was like they had never been apart from one another. Isaacs realised almost at once just how much he had really missed her. He even confessed to his current situation with Anita. Anna merely nodded as though the fact was no surprise to her and asked him if he planned to continue it. He replied truthfully that he didn’t think so, especially now and she seemed to accept his answer. Anna asked him if he intended to stay in Port Royal, whether he had thought about what she had said. He said that he had, and promised to stay for the time being and see how things worked out. She stood up on tip toes and kissed him softly when he said that, and he held her for a long time afterwards.
In the end though, he returned alone to his cabin aboard the Profit Margin. They both wanted to take things slowly. He left a message for Anita and explained things to her. She called him back later and seemed more happy than anything else, happy for him, which was a relief. He slept fitfully for hours aboard his ship for the first time in what seemed like ages.
He was woken next morning by someone banging on the Profit Margin’s hatch. He stumbled, bleary eyed with sleep, from his cabin and opened the hatch. Maria Velasquez was standing on the deck outside, eyeing him impatiently, her arms crossed across her t-shirted chest.
‘Jesus,’ she said. ‘You’re one heavy sleeper. I thought for a moment that you’d died. I was calling your ship for over half an hour. Didn’t you hear it?’
‘No, sorry. Guess it’s a long time since I had decent night’s sleep.’
‘Well anyway, now that you’ve joined the world of the living, I have a message for you. Our glorious leader wants to speak with you.’
‘You have a leader? I’d never had guessed. It seems out of place here somehow. You guys seem far too anti-establishment to take orders.’
‘Yeah we sort of work things out democratically, but if we have a leader, he’s it. Or at least, he’s our official contact with the Nahabe. We make our decisions based on his advice, and sometimes he issues what you might call orders.’
‘And you follow them?’
‘Well, yeah. Mainly because he’s never been wrong so far. Anyway, he wants to meet you. You ah… you might want to put some clothes on first though.’
Isaacs looked down at his underwear whose tattered state barely concealed his modesty and laughed.
‘Alright,’ he said. ‘Give me five minutes.’
‘Five minutes.’ Maria replied, phrasing it as an order.
‘Any chance of breakfast on the way?’ he asked and tried a winning smile. Maria rolled her eyes in response.
Following a hurried breakfast, Isaacs found himself following Maria down a long, curving corridor into the centre of Port Royal. It ended at a rather ordinary looking door. Maria pressed the call button on the wall panel at the side and waited. There was a quiet chime and a light on the panel turned green. Isaacs hesitated.
‘Well?’ Maria said. ‘What are you waiting for?’ She folded her arms and gave him that impatient look again.
‘Oh err, right. I’ll just go inside then?’
‘That’s the idea.’
Isaacs had a thought. ‘Look I know how touchy the Nahabe can be, how do I address him? I’d hate to offend my host straight away.’
‘He calls himself The Speaker, presumably because that’s basically what he does. We speak to the Nahabe and they to us, via him. I’d avoid any over familiarity and well, he doesn’t have much of a sense of humour. Anyway he asked to see you, not the other way around, so that places you at an advantage, I’d say. He wants to speak to you.’
‘Alright, thanks. Are you coming in?’
‘No, I’ll stay out here until you’re done. Have fun.’
‘Yeah, I’ll try,’ Isaacs replied and placed his hand on the door in front of him.
The room inside was lit by the light that flooded in from the broad window that formed the rear wall casting harsh shadows within. Beyond, the hydroponic gardens formed a green, tiered swathe. A single Nahabe sarcophagus floated behind a bank of alien consoles and other equipment designed for an unfamiliar physiology.
‘Good morning Captain Isaacs,’ said the Nahabe in flat, cultured artificial tones that emanated from its sarcophagus. ‘I am The Speaker, the conduit between my people and the Hidden Hand. I trust you slept well?’
‘Yes, I did. Thank you.’
‘I expect you’re wondering why I summoned you here.’
‘You want me to join you.’
‘Yes. But before you make your decision as to whether you do or not, I felt that it was important that we have a talk together. Perhaps if I reveal a few truths to you it may sway you one way or the other?’
‘Truths?’
‘Yes. My people have known of the Shapers for a very long time. We are a far older race than many people popularly imagine us to be. A million years ago we first achieved interstellar flight. At that time the first Arkari Empire held sway over much of this region of the galaxy. This was the first great resurgence of interstellar civilisation since the great collapse following the end of the Progenitor Empire at the hands of the Shapers several billion years earlier. The rule of the Arkari then was not as beneficent as it is now. Like all empires of conquest they sought to subjugate others via the use of military force. We learned to keep a low profi
le. Though we existed outside their borders, we had no wish for their gaze to turn upon us. Foolishly, they believed their empire to everlasting.’
‘This isn’t something the Arkari tend to discuss, I suspect. I’d never heard about any of this. I’d always assumed that were always, well, like they are now.’
‘No, it shames them. They know better now and dislike talk of their violent history. I gather that much of it has come to light in more recent years. In any case, eventually the Shapers came for the Arkari, who in their hubris were unable to see the danger. The Shapers were awoken from their aeons-long slumber by monitoring networks that they had specifically left in place to alert them to the presence of interstellar activity, for the Shapers crave dominion over others more than anything. Indeed, it is this instinct which had led them to almost destroy themselves, turning on one another for control of their crumbling realm until nothing was left, and few of them remained. Eventually it seems that they took the decision to hibernate until suitable slave races emerged.’
Isaacs’ head spun. The creature was attempting to give him a lesson on the past several billion years of galactic history. He wondered where all this was going. ‘The Shapers attempted to topple the Arkari Empire and enslave it. They succeeded in engineering a civil war which led to the Empire’s total collapse. But their scheme was unsuccessful. The militaristic faction under their sway was unsuccessful in gaining control and the collapse of the Empire was so total that the Arkari returned to their home-world and regressed to a state of almost medieval ignorance which persisted for many thousands of years. They were of no use to the Shapers. They had wanted a vassal state to control. Instead, they produced anarchy and destroyed what they had attempted to seize.’
‘So where do your people come in?’