A Night Without Stars

by Peter F. Hamilton

  ‘Now that you know about her, you have a choice. Or rather, I do.’

  Exactly as she said, Uracus damn her. ‘And that is?’

  ‘I understand you saw breeder Fallers at Xander Manor?’

  ‘Yes. I did.’

  ‘Their existence would be extremely detrimental to the morale of Bienvenido’s citizens. Do you agree?’

  ‘They scared the crud out of me.’

  ‘Contrary to rumour, Section Seven isn’t concerned with internal security matters. My cadre of officers are fully informed about breeder Fallers and work to eliminate not just them, but any public knowledge of their existence. You know first hand how deadly they are, so you have passed the first entry requirement of that cadre. But I only accept officers with an excellent record.’ Stonal patted the file. ‘Which you have been, except for one regrettable lapse.’

  Chaing frowned. ‘What lapse?’

  ‘Earlier this evening you brought Corilla to this very PSR office.’

  ‘Yes. We rescued her from a breeder Faller. We needed to get out of that situation fast and bring her in for debriefing.’

  ‘There are perfectly clear standing orders governing Eliters – the first of which is that they cannot be brought into PSR offices; they may be broadcasting what they find to their own kind. It is a massive security breach. She should have been taken to the specialist holding cells. That’s why we have them.’

  ‘There was an active nest which I knew was targeting the rocketry plant. That was my priority. I didn’t have time for anything else.’

  ‘Cutting corners, captain?’

  Chaing knew the man was trying to provoke him, testing his temperament. ‘I acted to save the factory,’ he replied levelly. ‘It might not be your priority, but it is, and remains, mine.’

  Stonal took his glasses off and placed them on top of the file. His sunken eyes regarded Chaing thoughtfully. ‘I like your dedication, Captain Chaing, and I appreciate the difficulty of active operations, which is why I’m inclined to elevate you to Section Seven.’

  ‘There is no going back, is there, not now?’ Chaing said, trying not to tense up.

  ‘No. None.’

  ‘Then I’d better re-read the rule book.’

  Stonal chuckled. ‘I don’t think that’s necessary. Welcome to Section Seven, Captain Chaing.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.’

  ‘No, you won’t. Nobody does.’

  ‘So what now?’

  ‘You carry on exactly as before, except you have an additional reporting channel, directly to my office in Varlan, and a little extra authority to invoke when you have to deal with your local superiors. You will receive a full briefing package.’ He hesitated, putting his spectacles back on. ‘It makes uncomfortable reading. We have hunted down and killed an extraordinary variety of breeder Fallers over the years. They can make themselves take on practically any animal form they wish.’

  ‘How? That’s . . . incredible.’

  ‘It’s some innate ability to reshape their embryos, which naturally fascinates the Faller Research Institute. But I don’t care about the science, only the end result.’

  ‘Understood. And the Warrior Angel?’

  ‘See that she remains legendary. Knowledge of any activity must be suppressed. That same information will be passed on to us.’

  ‘So you are interested in her?’

  ‘I’m extremely interested in everything Kysandra does. I have a whole team of Section Seven staff devoted to compiling her movements and abilities, drawing up lists of suspected sympathizers – mostly Eliters. One day we will know enough to track her down.’

  ‘Then what? I’ve seen what she can do. I expect she could defeat an entire regiment.’

  ‘Yes, but she has limits. We know that from Mother Laura, who had the same level of inbuilt Commonwealth technology. It is unlikely she could survive an atomic explosion.’

  ‘Crud! Nuke her? On the planet’s surface? You’re kidding?’

  ‘Our exact response will be determined at the appropriate time. For now I am content maintaining the status quo, for all our sakes.’

  Chaing hoped no flicker of surprise escaped to mar his features. Just like Corilla called it. ‘It’s how we’ve survived this long.’

  Stonal reached into a pocket and took Chaing’s PSR badge out. He examined it for a moment, then slid it over the table. ‘I’m glad you agree. Reducing our local exposure will be your first assignment for me’

  ‘Sir?’ He didn’t snatch the badge back; that would just be sad.

  ‘Corporal Jenifa, the undercover officer, she saw the breeder Faller in Frikal Alley. Yes?’

  ‘She did, yes,’ Chaing said cautiously. ‘But only a glimpse. It was dark.’

  ‘Then it won’t be hard for you to convince her it was a wild dog, or something equally mundane.’

  ‘I’ll see to it. There will be no mention of it on her official report.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘What about Corilla? Do I talk to her as well?’

  ‘The Eliter? She’s an irritation, not worth your time. Eliters are always droning on about their beloved Warrior Angel, and breeder Fallers, and the coming apocalypse. I’ve withdrawn her university permit so she doesn’t continue spreading that kind of sedition among impressionable young minds. She’ll be assigned to a people’s collective farm where she’ll live a productive life for the state – better for everyone all round.’

  Chaing put on a thoughtful expression, knowing Stonal would be searching for any hint of disapproval. It was so monstrously unfair. Corilla had cooperated with the PSR, risked herself to warn them about the extent of the nest, and for that she had her dream of a real education taken from her. No wonder Eliters all hate the PSR. ‘Yes, that tidies it up neatly.’ He used his good hand to pick up the badge and put it in his pocket.

  Stonal stood and reclaimed the file. ‘It’s nearly dawn. You’d better get that injury seen to.’

  Chaing climbed to his feet and winced. The movement had triggered a hot throb of pain from his damaged wrist, despite the painkillers. ‘I will. Er, sir?’

  Stonal was about to knock on the door. He turned with some surprise. ‘Yes?’

  ‘How did you get recruited, sir? Did you see a breeder Faller?’

  ‘No. This has been my function right from the start. Bienvenido needs people who will ensure that Slvasta’s great work continues, that we don’t turn aside from the goal he set us: to destroy the Fallers and make our liberation real. It is a difficult, wearying road we are on, and not everyone agrees with it. I have devoted my life to eradicating that domestic threat, and I will not fail. I promised him that. All of us did.’

  ‘Promised who?’

  ‘Why, Slvasta, or course. He couldn’t have children of his own, you know. Quanda, the Faller he encountered when he lost his arm, she damaged him. Instead, in later life, he took in children who had lost their parents to Fallers. I was fortunate to be one of them. He treated me like a son, he put his faith in me, and I will not let him down.’

  ‘You knew Slvasta himself?’ Chaing asked in astonishment. The leader of the revolution had died over eighty years ago.

  ‘I did. He was a remarkable, inspiring man. His passion that the people of Bienvenido should ultimately triumph was breathtaking. Almost as great as his contempt for the treachery of Nigel and Kysandra. Once the Fallers are defeated, he was determined that we should be free to build our own destiny, free from the Commonwealth that Eliters claim is so wonderful. If it is wonderful, then why did they inflict Nigel upon us? Slvasta did not want us contaminated by them. Our battle against the Fallers has now been fought for over three thousand achingly long years. First on our planet, and now, triumphantly, in space. We have never wavered in all that time. The people of Bienvenido are the most indomitable in the universe, making tremendous sacrifices for the sake of generations unborn. Our victory should belong to us alone, for we will have earned it as no humans before. Only we should have
a say in our future thereafter.’

  ‘Crudding right,’ Chaing agreed; he didn’t have to fake sincerity for that sentiment. Eliter whispers of impending glories and wonders when Bienvenido regained contact with the Commonwealth had always sounded fanciful, the envy-promise of a desperate politician.

  Stonal rapped his knuckles on the door, which opened almost immediately. ‘Good night, Captain Chaing. I expect my trust in you to be rewarded.’

  Chaing raised his damaged hand to his forehead in a salute, gritting his teeth against the pain. ‘It will be, sir.’

  *

  It was Jenifa who was waiting for him on the ground floor when he finally made it up the stairs, weary from lack of sleep and the constant pain inflicted by his wrist. Disillusioned by the subterfuge the PSR practised to suppress knowledge of the breeder Fallers. Mourning Lurvri more than he ever expected to. There simply isn’t a worse way to die.

  She got up from the bench in the entrance hall and put her arms round him. ‘I know about Lurvri. Everybody does. I’m sorry. He was one of us, and nobody deserves that.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  She gave him a searching gaze. ‘You okay?’

  ‘I think I might be.’

  ‘Good, come on. I’m driving you to the hospital.’ An idiosyncratic smile touched her lips for a moment. ‘I volunteered for that duty. Well, insisted, actually.’

  4

  Ry Evine hadn’t known the PSR office even existed. It was a nondescript concrete block in among Cape Ingmar’s scattered collection of administration and engineering buildings, not half a kilometre from the grand white-marble control centre.

  He found out about it three hours after splashdown. Ninety minutes after the recovery ships had picked him up, a dinghy had transferred him to a seaplane which flew him back to Cape Ingmar. That was when he realized something was badly wrong. The seaplane taxied into a hangar, and there was no reception committee, no cheering crowd of Astronaut Corps and Cape workers, no reporters; even General Delores was nowhere to be seen. Instead three armed PSR officers in smart khaki fatigues escorted him to a car which drove him to the PSR office.

  The quarters he was shown to were comfortable enough, like a hotel room, with a lounge and bathroom – but no windows, and the door had no handle on the inside. It was a cell.

  He stripped out of his flight suit and went into the shower. There were clean clothes (his own) laid out on the bed when he finished. His flight suit was gone, and with it his platinum mission badge.

  ‘Hey!’ Ry banged on the door. ‘Hey, there’s no crudding authority on this planet that lets you take my badge. Give that back!’

  No response.

  He smashed his fist on the door again. ‘You pissy little bastards!’

  Then all he could do was wait. There were no books. No radio.

  He grew angry. He grew impatient. He grew tired. The flight had been exhausting. He was running on adrenalin alone now, and that was never going to last.

  The door opened, and Ry lifted his head from the table. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep. His body was telling him: not nearly long enough.

  A man came in. Ry guessed his age somewhere between a hundred and a hundred and thirty. Old – the heavy eyes behind small steel-rimmed spectacles gave that away – but sprightly with it, a man who clearly kept active and busy. He wore a dark-grey suit, even in the tropical heat of the Cape, with a white shirt. A slim burgundy tie, for Giu’s sake. Then Ry caught the discreet lapel pin, a pale blue rectangle with a gold stripe down the centre.

  PSR political division.

  The man pulled a chair over to the table, and sat opposite him. ‘You recognized my insignia, Pilot Major Evine?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. You are an intelligent man. That will make this easier.’

  ‘Make what easier? Who are you?’

  ‘Do you think you need to know my name?’

  ‘Looks like I don’t.’

  ‘And why am I here?’

  Ry tried to keep his voice level. Losing his temper now wasn’t going to help – in fact, it might be dangerous. ‘Because of what I saw.’

  ‘Precisely. So let us examine that, shall we? Liberty mission two-six-seven-three encountered some anomalies. The first was you entering an unauthorized course alteration into your nuclear carrier missile.’

  ‘I did not! Something changed the missile guidance data.’

  ‘As I understand it, once the missile has detached from the command module, a course correction can only be entered by a radio signal. Correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And that signal is coded?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The encryption is changed for every mission. So to amend the guidance data you have to know the code. There are only two sources that can transmit a coded signal – the Liberty spaceship and the flight control centre here at Cape Ingmar. Did you accidentally strike a button, Major Evine? Was an erroneous signal transmitted to the missile?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘To pilot a Liberty mission is an incredible achievement. You are the very pinnacle of mental and physical excellence, but even astronauts are subject to human error. It is a cramped capsule, movement in freefall is tricky. A careless wave of a hand, perhaps? A simple cough that knocked you against the console?’

  ‘I was in the acceleration couch, looking at the console. The numbers started to change without warning.’

  ‘Very well, I accept that.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Indeed. Do you accept that this rogue signal could not have been transmitted from the ground without someone in flight control or the communication crew knowing?’

  Ry couldn’t answer honestly; he didn’t know the entire system of the communication division, just the basic layout. But it wouldn’t be easy, that was for sure. ‘Unlikely,’ he admitted.

  ‘Good. So, logically, that leaves us with a third source. And yet, the missile still hit Tree 3,788-D. Therefore it wasn’t sabotage, was it? The course change was too minute.’

  ‘Well . . . yes.’

  ‘Is it possible solar activity caused a small disruption to the missile guidance circuits?’

  ‘Theoretically, I suppose.’

  ‘So if you didn’t alter the course, and the Astronaut Regiment communication division hasn’t been infiltrated by Fallers – which it assuredly has not – is that not the most likely cause of the minute anomaly?’

  Ry leant back in his chair, and fixed the man with a resigned stare. ‘Yes. It’s possible.’

  ‘Do you enjoy being an astronaut, Major Evine? Of course you do; nobody would put themselves through that gruelling training process without being utterly committed. A successful first flight opens the door for further flights, does it not?’

  ‘Is that a threat?’

  ‘Certainly not. If I considered you a genuine danger to the state, we would not be sitting here talking.’

  The hairs along Ry’s spine reacted as if they’d been stroked by an ice spike. ‘Astronaut is not a job, it’s a calling. It’s what I am.’

  ‘And you are prepared to sacrifice anything to achieve it, I see that. Then answer me this: why did you argue?’

  ‘Argue what?’

  ‘You were told by flight control, with all their considerable resources, that your third stage was following you on the same orbital track. Yet you chose to disagree with them.’

  ‘I said it was possible. I agreed with them.’

  ‘To quote you: the intruder is definitely darker now. Liberty is moving away from it. The intruder, Major Evine? That doesn’t sound like an agreement to me.’

  ‘There was something out there,’ Ry growled in exasperation, and Uracus, take the risk. ‘Why don’t you take a look at the photographs I took?’

  ‘I have.’

  Ry sat up fast. ‘And?’

  ‘Empty space, Major Evine. Empty space.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘You sound dubious. Do you have a problem wit
h authority?’

  ‘No. Do you have a problem with facts?’

  ‘I have issues with interpretation. That, major, is my calling. We are fighting a war. It is long and brutal, and phenomenally expensive. We cannot afford anything that will undermine public support.’

  ‘You think I don’t know that? I’ve visited the factories building the Silver Swords; I know how much they cost. I’ve also killed a Tree, so I know better than you how vital it is that we continue this struggle until the very last one of those bastards is nuked out of existence. Then we can finish them on this planet and finally be free. No matter how much your kind twist the truth, I will fight that fight. I will play the biggest part I can in destroying the Fallers.’

  The man seemed almost surprised. ‘And how do you think Bienvenido would react to news of another possible alien enemy? Would resolve fail or strengthen? We nearly fell once before, when the Prime came. It took everything we had, including Mother Laura’s life, to survive them. A repeat of that would be catastrophic. I’ve seen the reports of dissent from across Lamaran. I’ve interviewed reactionary leaders, I’ve interviewed rebels. They have support; we are grown-up enough to admit that. What we cannot do is give them credibility. If our vigilance falters, we die – all of us. So I will not allow our fragile society to be distracted, or demoralized to the point of submission. That is the part I play in all this. Do you understand that, major?’

  Ry nodded roughly. ‘What do you want me to say? I know what I saw. And you know what I saw. There’s something else out there.’

  ‘An enigma. A glitch. One we will investigate to our full ability. But not in public, and not in panic. Someone of your unique status should be aware of that.’

  ‘Status, Comrade? This is an equal society for all.’

  ‘Is it? Did you really qualify for the Astronaut Regiment without political support?’

  ‘You know how keen Democratic Unity was for me to join the Astronaut Corps. I am Slvasta’s half-brother’s great-great-great-grandson. That earns everyone publicity and support, which can only help the Liberty programme. So yes, me qualifying for the Astronaut Corps was a political decision. But don’t you ever imply I’m not qualified.’