Talina tapped her pistol butt for reassurance, made sure her utility belt was secure, and grabbed her rifle. After she checked out the wreckage where the dome had collapsed, she strolled down past the last of the buildings and into the fields.
The chime was different down here. Unlike Port Authority’s, it had a more symphonic sound: deeper, more resonant, mindful of a concert hall reverberation. But then the invertebrates here were entirely different species than those up in the savannah country she was used to.
Breakfast consisted of green beans, tomatoes, blueberries, cherries, and blackberries. All ripe for the picking. The quetzals might kill her for trespassing, but no fart-sucking way was she going to starve to death.
Water wasn’t a concern either. All of the cisterns were full. Unlike ground water, rain water wasn’t contaminated by heavy metals.
Overhead a batch of scarlet fliers descended on the field, searching for invertebrates.
Was it real, or did she delude herself into believing the part of her that was Rocket was delighted to be back in his home? Here, the little quetzal had spent his best days with Kylee. And she with him.
A pang almost brought a tear to her eyes.
“So, what now, Talina? Nobody here you can be made to shoot. You’re a pariah, looking for answers.”
Following the raised causeway south, she walked through the deciduous trees to the pines that marked the end of the human incursion into Donovan’s vastness.
Here, just inside the forest, Kylee had told Dya and Tal to leave. Beyond was forest.
The quetzals inside her began to thrill.
“So, come on, you bastards, let’s get this over with one way or another.”
And so saying, she walked fearlessly into the forest’s dim shadow, all the while wondering if she was still going to be alive come sunset.
17
For once, the call came when Tam was actually awake. He’d buried himself in the reports and notes from Tempest’s initial survey of Capella III. Trying to understand the science and planetology left him confused, wishing he’d had a chance to snare an implant back in Solar System that would have allowed him to synthesize the terminology and math.
Yeah, right. As if he’d had any clue where he was headed. Or that he would have had the sense to download an implant even if he had known.
One thing was sure, the holographic images of the planet were truly awe evoking. The stuff that looked like plants ranged in color from blue to turquoise, to teal, to green, to viridian. Nor did the plants look quite right. And they moved! Branches and leaves would follow a person as they walked past.
Then came the various organisms that Tam assumed were animals. Everything seemed to be in marvelous color. Right up until one of the holos showed what appeared to be a rock. Only when probed by a long stick did it suddenly move, two tentacle-like arms shooting out. As they did, the cameraman leaped back and the rock dropped its camouflage. Three eyes appeared.
“Don’t know what to call it,” the cameraman said in the voiceover. “Some kind of predator. Whatever it is, it’s a bastard evil monster.”
And then there was the tape of one of the crewmen, a fellow named Donovan. Apparently unconcerned, he walked out to the perimeter, the edge of the shuttle wing visible in the holo. Wearing yellow coveralls, he stepped up to a bush and was apparently about to urinate. As he unfastened his fly, the ground seemed to flow, rise, and take form.
Whatever the thing was, it went from invisible to a wild flash of crimson. A neck ruff popped out like a sheet, violet, mauve, and orange bands flashing in intricate patterns.
Donovan stood gaping, paralyzed.
And then the thing shot a triangular head forward in a lightning move. Serrated jaws snapped shut around Donovan’s head and shoulders. The thing jerked him off his feet; clawed front legs pinned his sides. Bone, muscle, and flesh were sheared as the beast bit Donovan in two. Tossing its head back, the creature began swallowing. The bulge moved slowly down the throat, expanding the ruffed neck.
Seeing that bulge move down, knowing it was a man’s head, neck, and shoulders, sent a tingle of horror through Tamarland like he’d never felt before.
Even as the monster took its first bite, shouts could be heard. A man and woman appeared at the edge of the frame, rifles lifted. Taking aim, they fired bursts. In their panic only about half the rounds had any effect, the rest splintering the vegetation.
The monster leaped as if stung, whipped around. Its tail slashed through the brush, flattening plants. Yellow and black—almost electric in vivid color—flashed across the creature’s hide. It fixed three gleaming black eyes on the shooters, and charged.
By luck the woman’s simultaneous burst caught the beast full in the head. Explosive rounds tore the skull apart, blasted bits of bone and tissue into the air.
Even then the thing slammed to the ground just short of her feet.
Tamarland stared in amazement as the holo showed close-ups of what was left of the creature.
“Sir?” a voice interrupted.
Tam pulled himself back to the present, turned, and found Valencia Seguro at his doorway. “Yes, Second Officer?”
“Captain would like a word.”
Tam paused the holo, got to his feet, and followed Seguro up a deck to the AC. Torgussen sat in the command chair, Engineer Ho at his station to the side.
“Advisor,” Torgussen greeted. “Sorry to bother you. In the last couple of days we’ve managed to close enough distance that we can get a good image at maximum magnification. Thought you might like to see.”
“Thanks, Tayrell.” Tam stared at the image on the screen. “Is that . . . ?”
“We’ve cleaned it up with a fractal program, Advisor.” Ho made an adjustment, slightly shifting the color. “That’s with the IR enhanced.”
Tam stepped up beside Torgussen’s station and studied the ship. So many of the details had refined, right down to the line of shuttles berthed just below the lower cargo torus. The bulge of the reactor core was out of view, the image focused on the vessel’s upper decks.
“Here’s what I thought you would want to see.” Torgussen highlighted an area along the hull.
“That means . . . ?” Tam tried to understand.
“That’s the vessel registration. IS-C-27. IS means interstellar model. C stands for cargo. Vessel twenty-seven out of the shipyard.”
“So it’s ours?” Tam asked. “But I thought you said that nothing like that ship had ever been built.”
“It hasn’t. Advisor, we’ve only spaced three IS type cargo ships. They’re designed to deliver the basics for a small colony. And none of them is anything like that in size. She’s huge.”
Tam could see the confusion on Torgussen’s face. “What does it mean?”
“Don’t have a clue, sir. It would be nice to think that The Corporation was running another shipyard. Something covert. Hidden away out at the edge of Solar System. But it’s absolutely impossible when you think about the resources, the personnel necessary, the logistics of building a monster like that. Even for The Corporation, it would be impossible to hide.”
“And why would they need to?” Tam asked. “Trust me. Given my position, I’d have heard of it.” Or Shayne would have. “Not even Chairman Radcek could conceal something of this magnitude.”
“And the number twenty-seven is problematic. The Corporation is nothing if not methodical. They wouldn’t just throw twenty-seven out as a random number. That means she’s the twenty-seventh heavy hauler. We know of three, and a fourth was being built in the yards when we left. So where are the other twenty-two? When and where were they built?”
“You’d know better than I would, Captain. My talents lay in another direction. A fact that allows me to state unequivocally that no secret Corporate shipyard exists. Nor is there any covert Corporate program to build such a fleet.”
“You’re positive?”
“Oh, yes.” He actually smiled at that. He had even penetrated Radcek’s security, and done it so thoroughly, he had been able to hand over the man’s deepest business dealings to Shayne.
Torgussen took a deep breath, sighed wearily. “Then we’re still stuck with the impossible.”
“But we can rule out aliens?”
“What are the chances that aliens use Arabic numerals and script? No, this is human.”
Ho was looking distinctly uncomfortable.
“Yes, Engineer?” Tam asked.
“It’s a wild guess. Probably nothing.”
“I’ll take a wild guess.” Tam crossed his arms.
“Multiverse theory was really kicked off by a guy named Everett back in the middle of the twentieth century. The hypothesis went through several modifications through the years, ending in what we now accept as established theory. Interstellar travel by symmetry inversion wouldn’t work without it.”
“Get to the point, please.”
“What if that ship comes from another universe? One parallel to ours, but slightly different at the relativistic level? Maybe their universe has a minuscule difference in mass, making it run slightly faster than ours. What I’m trying to say is that if that ship didn’t come from our universe, it had to come from somewhere, right? Maybe that ship came from a parallel that’s running just slightly ahead of ours.”
“When they reverted symmetry, why wouldn’t they have returned to their own universe?” Torgussen looked skeptical.
“I have no idea, Captain.” Ho rubbed the side of his head as if massaging a headache. “We have a tough enough time describing physics in our universe. It gets infinitely tougher in universes where we haven’t a clue of the constants or dimensions, let alone the kind of mathematics necessary. I’m just offering an alternate hypothesis. Something we might be able to test for.”
“Can’t fault a man for that,” Tam agreed.
“Got something else,” Ho said. “I’ve done a count as that good old number twenty-seven rotates on its axis. It’s missing two shuttles.”
Tam turned, staring at the image. The shuttle bays were located just below what they assumed was the cargo torus. And yes, even as he looked he could see one of the bays was empty.
“Two missing?”
“Figure that she would have needed a crew of a hundred to one hundred and fifty to operate and maintain her,” Torgussen said. “Figure fifty people per shuttle at full capacity. Means you’d have to take two if they were trying to get everyone off in a hurry. Beyond that, perhaps any additional personnel were already dirtside.”
“Or there’s still someone on board,” Tam suggested.
“If so, the hyperlink and photonics aren’t working. Nor did they opt to answer our radio hail.”
“So, what about the planet? What does your sensor array indicate?”
“Perhaps the answer to all of our questions,” Torgussen told him. “We’ve got two faint pinpoints of radio emissions on the planet. This far out, the signal’s still pretty weak. We’ll have a better idea in the next few days.”
“Good.” Tam continued to squint at the holo. “Remain on passive scan. I want to know as much about them as we possibly can before we initiate communications.”
Torgussen hesitated, as if reluctant. “Something you want to tell me, Advisor? Something I should be aware of?”
“Knowledge is power, Captain. Chances are there will be some simple explanation for all of this, but it won’t hurt to understand exactly what we’ll be walking into when we arrive.”
“Yes, sir.”
Whatever awaited him, seizing it for his own would be no trouble for Shayne’s deadly and talented scorpion.
18
Trish sat at the end of the bar in Inga Lock’s Bloody Drink tavern. A mug of golden ale—one of Inga’s latest brews—sat half empty by her elbow.
Beside her, Talina’s chair remained symbolically empty.
The tavern was boisterous, this being the first night for one of the crews rotating in from Corporate Mine. Supervisor Aguila didn’t allow alcohol down at the mine, so Inga’s was the first place the crews hit. It was still the Corporate world down there. Regimented. Ordered. Everything by the book. And, fact was, most of Aguila’s people—newcomers who’d arrived on Turalon—preferred it that way. It reminded them of the way things were back in Solar System.
Trish shot a glance over her shoulder. The Corporate folk stood out in their still-new coveralls, though some had managed to acquire Donovanian wear. Slowly but surely, they were beginning to blend in.
So many of the tensions that the Turalon transportees once had with the hardscrabble Donovanians had eased over the intervening months. They weren’t soft meat anymore, nor were they quite Donovanian. Though some of the deserters who’d run for the bush—at least those few who were still alive—couldn’t be told from locals.
Shig appeared on the steps leading down into Inga’s. He was wearing his new fabric shirt under his water-slicked rain poncho. As he made his way down the central aisle, he called out in response to greetings.
Hofer’s entire crew—having retired to the tavern after a hard day’s work on the new school—lifted their glasses his direction.
A new school? Obviously some scheme by that walking piece of shit, Dan Wirth. Slimy quetzal in the grass that he was, the psychopath did nothing unless it ultimately benefited his interests. Just like when Trish had heard that Wirth’s goons had agitated for Talina’s confinement in the interest of “public safety.”
And now Tal was gone, escaped to the bush. Her aircar, rifle, and field pack missing in the middle of the night. And boy, was Raya pissed off.
Shig caught Trish’s eye, raised a hand, and walked her way. He didn’t hesitate, plopping himself in the high chair beside Trish.
“That’s Talina’s, you know.”
“She’s not here.” Shig gave her one of his beaming smiles. “The fact that you save it for her says good things about your character.”
“My character sucks toilet water.”
Shig lifted one of his bushy eyebrows, curiosity in his dark and serene eyes. “How is Raya?”
“Mad enough to chew nails. Feeling humiliated that Tal not only tricked her, but left her strapped into one of her hospital beds so that she couldn’t raise the alarm. By the time Step found her this morning, she was fit to commit murder.”
“And like her, you’re blaming yourself. Hence the character that sucks toilet water.”
“I keep thinking back to the canyon that day.” Trish picked up her beer and took a drink to wash down the pain. “If I’d not rushed that shot, if I’d dropped to a knee, aimed. If I’d center-punched that damn quetzal, it wouldn’t have infected Talina.”
“Humanity has spent most of its history torturing itself with the word if. Not even a hot poker in the hands of a sadistic inquisitor can elicit as much agony. Would you feel better if I asked Inga for that pair of pliers she keeps behind the bar? I could pull out some of your fingernails.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“Advice, you yourself should take.” He gestured to Inga as she looked his direction, and nodded. “Talina has to follow her path. And the way that can be named is not the true way.”
“What?”
“I’m talking about the Tao. I gave that lecture when you were in school, remember?”
“I think I was sick that day.”
“What I’m trying to say is that Talina, by nature of her karma, must be our warrior. From the day she shot Clemenceau, she has placed herself out in front. Our strength, our scout leading the way into the unknown. And, in many ways, our conscience.”
“I’m not sure I buy that conscience bit.”
Shig smiled as Inga set a half-full glass of wine on the battered chabacho wood ba
r. Shig tossed out an SDR.
“Think about it. Since when has Talina done anything but what was right by the people? She has taken it upon herself to rescue those in need, risked her life to break up fights, functioned as policeman and executioner, and stepped between the people and trouble. Sure, she threatens and dispenses violence, but when has she ever turned it upon the innocent?”
“Step says she thought she was shooting Sian Hmong the other day. Sian’s like a pillar of the community.”
“I’m not saying that Talina isn’t compromised by the quetzal molecules, but when you think about it, her escape is totally in character. I’m willing to bet she won’t be back until she knows she’s no longer a threat.”
“Tricky of her. Wejee was on the aircar field gate that night. He swears up and down he didn’t see her.” Trish drank again. “Where’d she go, Shig? You got any idea?”
“Rork Springs has good water. There’s a cache of ammo and supplies at Two Falls Gap. She’s always been tight with the Briggses. If she’s leaving for good, she might have gone as far as the Andani holding or way out to Tyson Base. Wherever she went, we’re not going to find her.”
“She’s not in her right mind, Shig. It’s my fault. I should have known she’d do something like this.”
Shig took a dainty sip of his wine. “You have a failing. It is in you to protect others from themselves. It makes you a good security officer, but taken too far it becomes arrogance. The ultimate justification for denying freedom for others.”
“I thought we had already established that Talina is having her brain jacked around by alien molecules? There’s times, Shig, when a person needs to step in and act when someone’s incapable of acting for themselves.”
“Like with Cap Taggart?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ultimately I’m talking about love.” Shig smiled at his wine. “Talina stepped in when your mother died. You were twelve. Talina has been the mass around which you orbit. A circumstance which is fine for a girl. You are now a woman. When are you going to dedicate yourself to your own Tao? Seek the wisdom that will establish your way?”
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