A Night Without Stars

by Peter F. Hamilton

  ‘I wouldn’t do that. I know how hard you worked to earn your flight. And ultimately General Delores would never let you launch if she believed you weren’t capable of carrying out the mission.’

  ‘Good, then you can return my badge.’

  The man smiled without humour. Then the door opened, and he gave the PSR officer who came in a disapproving look. Both of them retreated into the corridor.

  Ry wondered just how much of this was theatrics. Some new piece of evidence of his complicity uncovered with miraculous good timing – so please confess, Comrade, and we will go easy on you.

  The PSR man returned and gave Ry a long appraisal.

  ‘What?’ Ry asked belligerently. He didn’t care about caution any more. This was too much of a farce.

  ‘I have to leave now, so this will be short. You have just completed a successful Liberty flight, Major Evine. Did you see an alien spaceship in the Ring?’

  Ry took a moment. ‘No.’ Uracus, I’m pathetic.

  ‘Will you mention your suspicions to anyone?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Will you dismiss any questions that your Astronaut Corps friends will ask you? And ask they certainly will.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Thank you. You are a good Comrade, major. Your esteemed ancestor would be proud. I am glad this time in the hospital has enabled you to recover from re-entry sickness so you can resume your duties. I wish you many more successful flights.’

  The man stood up and dropped Ry’s platinum flight badge on the table before leaving the room.

  Ry picked up the badge and pinned it on his fatigues. It shone in the room’s electric light. So why does it seem so tarnished?

  5

  Chaing woke up in his own bed. That was comforting. He hadn’t been able to quash the nagging worry that somehow he’d failed Stonal’s requirements, or that the director of Section Seven had seen right through him. Uracus, I’m paranoid. If he ever suspected I had some kind of broken Eliter ability, I wouldn’t have left the cells.

  As if to confirm he was above suspicion, Jenifa was on the bed beside him. She was still fully clothed, and lying above the blankets. But still . . . She was sleeping with her knees up against her chest, which was endearingly girlish. His movement woke her, and she gave him a bleary gaze.

  ‘Morning.’

  ‘Afternoon, I think,’ he said. Bright daylight was pouring through the bedroom’s thin red and blue curtains.

  ‘How’s the wrist?’

  He lifted his arm, staring at the white plaster cast encasing his forearm and hand. His memory of the hospital was vague, he’d been so exhausted. ‘It aches,’ he admitted.

  ‘You can take some more painkillers. It’s been six hours.’

  ‘I have painkillers?’

  Her grin faded. ‘I drove out to Xander Manor with the assault squad; you were only fifteen minutes ahead of us. We found the egg first. Then we went into the manor. Crudding Uracus! That room. I’m never going to forget that room! It was a slaughterhouse. Even the assault squad was puking their guts up. What happened, Chaing?’

  ‘I used grenades on them.’

  ‘Grenades? Come on!’

  He reached out with his good arm, and grasped the hair on the back of her head, making her look at him. ‘Grenades.’

  ‘I thought you were dead,’ she whispered. ‘I thought that creature had come back. It nearly got us in the alley. I was so scared—’

  ‘The Fallers are dead, the whole nest of them. I saw them die. You’re safe.’

  ‘We’re never going to be safe. Not with those things Falling on us . . .’

  He kissed her. It wasn’t gentle. He wanted her, and she responded with the same hot urgency. When they broke off, they were both breathing harshly. Getting their clothes off became a frantic scramble. She had to help him with his shirtsleeve, tugging it over the cast.

  ‘Ow!’

  They both paused, then laughed before embracing eagerly. He was intrigued by the physique he exposed as he pulled her clothes off. It was as if she was compensating for her short stature by building muscle mass. He couldn’t even guess what her daily workout must be like to become so brawny. Her strength was tremendously exciting. Their unrestrained rutting tangled up the blankets and sent the headboard slamming repeatedly against the wall, making the eventual release all the sweeter.

  Jenifa finally rolled off him to smirk up at the ceiling as if she’d just heard a wicked secret. ‘I needed that,’ she confessed. ‘Undercover work is constant crudding stress. And then last night hit us.’

  ‘Like an egg on the head,’ he agreed. His good hand carefully stroked strands of sweat-damped hair from her face. Looking at those hazel eyes, he felt absurdly content.

  ‘It’s been a strange week,’ she said. ‘I mean, this is what we’re trained for, yes? But when it actually happens and we discover a nest, it seems . . . wrong. I guess, deep down, I wanted an operation that was all paperwork and bitching about my boss. Not this.’

  ‘It was real. And I’m your boss.’

  ‘Yeah. And quite a good one, too.’ Her hand gripped his as he was tracing curving lines of muscle down her arm. ‘So what was this?’

  ‘This was . . . good.’

  ‘Don’t deflect, captain.’

  ‘All right. We’ve just been through Uracus together, so this was kind of inevitable. But I don’t want to throw it away in a counter-reaction.’

  ‘Fair enough. We’ll see where we go.’ She kissed him.

  ‘There’s two things I need to deal with immediately.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘One: painkillers,’ he said, letting the urgency filter into his voice. His wrist was throbbing badly inside the cast as a result of all their exertion.

  ‘Oh, Chaing!’ she was instantly all concern. ‘Stupid!’ She scrambled off the bed and walked over to her bag, which was lying beside the door.

  He watched her keenly. Her sculpted frame made her seem like some idealized image of girlish vitality. Does she have an Eliter heritage to look so perfect?

  ‘Here.’ She returned with a small bottle of pills.

  Chaing swallowed a couple of them.

  ‘What’s the second thing?’ she asked.

  He sat up and patted the mattress beside him. ‘Your report,’ he said as she sat beside him.

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘It has to confirm my report. When we were in Frikal Alley, we were both on edge. We saw a stray cat and thought it was something else. That’s all. There was no creature.’

  She pulled away slightly as she turned to give him a concerned look. ‘Are you in trouble? That man who interviewed you last night, who was he?’

  ‘Just a standard debrief. Nothing to worry about. I only want to make sure the paperwork is right, that’s all.’

  ‘He was from Varlan, wasn’t he?’

  ‘There was no creature.’

  ‘Oh, great Giu, it’s Section Seven!’

  ‘A cat,’ he said softly. ‘It was a black cat. Understand?’

  Jenifa nodded reluctantly. But the happiness had drained from her spry face, to be replaced by real worry. ‘Yes. Yes, you’re right. It probably was.’

  Thank you, he mouthed.

  She started hunting round for her clothes. ‘I need something to eat.’

  ‘There’s some milk in the fridge. I think.’ He was a bit hazy on details, like how long it’d been there.

  ‘Ha! I saw your kitchen when we got back here. I’m not going anywhere near it.’

  Chaing produced a mock frown. The second-floor flat was a decent size, with two bedrooms and a bathroom. The kitchen appliances all worked; the block’s manager had demonstrated them when he moved in. Admittedly, he ate most of his meals out. ‘There’s a hot stall at the end of the road. He’s not got an enterprise licence, but the food’s decent.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Don’t get the rice, it sits there for days. Order the noodles.’

  ‘You just said
he was good.’

  ‘Good apart from the rice.’

  ‘Okay. No rice. Got it.’

  ‘You’re coming back?’ He winced at how needy that sounded.

  ‘Yes. I’m coming back. If nothing else, I need a shower before I go into the office. They’re reassigning me.’ She pursed her lips. ‘Hopefully not undercover work again. It wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. I want to do something that’ll get me noticed.’

  ‘You did good work. That’s what my report will say.’

  She bent over and gave him a kiss. ‘Thanks.’

  The front door closed behind her with a loud thunk. Now that he had a moment, he looked round the bedroom, not liking how messy it was. Unwashed clothes piled up against the full laundry basket. Chest with the drawers open and clothes hanging out as if burglars had rejected them. A narrow threadbare rug on worn floorboards. His three big suitcases standing by the door, as if he’d just arrived.

  He sighed. When he’d moved in, he had solid plans to smarten the place up. When did I stop caring about how I lived?

  Although he already knew that answer: the day he left Portlynn. It was a pleasant town, built on hundreds of silt islands in the Nilsson Sound, all of them linked by an eclectic array of footbridges. It was clean, with a leisurely pace, and a fleet of boats coming and going all day long. It also had Sazkar, a deputy manager at the train station – though in the end, she was one of the main reasons he’d accepted the Opole posting. The rows over his job and PSR activities had just become too great.

  At least that won’t happen with Jenifa.

  Jenifa didn’t have any of Sazkar’s inhibitions, either. He was still smiling fondly at how good the sex had been when there was a knock at the door. He put on his bathrobe, and tried to tie the belt as he hurried down the short dark hallway. ‘What did you forget? I can give you a key,’ he announced as he opened the door.

  It wasn’t Jenifa. The man standing there was wearing a dark suit, like one of the clerks from the records hall. He shoved a brown paper package at Chaing.

  ‘You’ll need to sign for this, sir.’

  Chaing had to balance the package on his cast as he tried to sign the clipboard with his left hand. The signature was illegible. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Restricted documents from your new section, sir. Don’t allow anyone else to read them.’

  Chaing made it to the living room before he realized the timing wasn’t accidental. They knew she was here. Uracus! They’re watching me. How many of them are there that they can afford the manpower to do that? I can’t be that important. Or . . . Oh great Giu, is Jenifa one of them? Did she tell them she’d left?

  That was the thing with Section Seven: you never knew who was a part of it. They supposedly had members in every PSR office on Bienvenido, at every level.

  But that’s just rumour. Stonal said they’re only interested in breeder Fallers. Chaing laughed at himself. Yeah, the planet’s chief super spook told me that, so it must be true.

  He looked down at the package and pulled the string off. There were three thick folders inside, along with a lapel pin – a pale blue rectangle with a gold stripe down the centre: the insignia of the political division. That pin gave its wearer the authority to question or give orders to anyone, even regional directors. He looked round the living room, almost guilty. Jenifa would be back soon, and she wasn’t authorized to see the folders. Is this a test? Uracus, I’m getting paranoid. He shoved the folders in his briefcase, locked it, and went to the bathroom for a wash.

  *

  ‘We missed a Treefall,’ Jenifa announced as she arrived back, holding several brown paper bags full of food from the stall. ‘Ten o’clock this morning. Must’ve slept right through it. The stall owner said the bomb flash was visible, even against the sunlight. Loads of people saw it.’

  Chaing poured some hot water from the kettle into a teapot, and brought it over to the table. He wished he’d had more time to clear up; the living room was almost as disorganized as the bedroom. But it’d taken longer than he’d expected to wash, standing in the bath using a sponge; the doctor who’d put his cast on had warned him not to get it wet. At least he’d managed to find some clean plates. ‘I’d forgotten there’s a Liberty mission flying,’ he admitted.

  ‘Yeah. To be fair, we’ve been kind of busy. The astronaut was one of Slvasta’s relatives, apparently.’

  Chaing couldn’t help it; he started chuckling.

  ‘What’s funny?’ she asked.

  ‘Nothing. But I’m glad he’s having a better time than I am.’

  They doled out the food. She’d bought some deep-fried coi prawns with cashew nuts, he saw. This could work out very well.

  ‘No chopsticks?’ she asked as she lifted a tangle of noodles with bean sprouts onto her plate.

  ‘No. I’m a cutlery kind of man. Problem?’

  She clicked her chopsticks together, and grinned. ‘Deal-breaker.’

  ‘Have you still got the car outside?’ he asked.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘I’d like to drive out to Xander Manor when we’re finished.’

  ‘Urrgh. Really? Why?’

  ‘It’s still my case. Yaki should have sent a scene examination team out there to see what evidence they can find. I want to check they’re doing it right, that’s all.’

  ‘You sure you’re up to that?’

  He held up his cast. ‘It’s just a fracture. I’ll come into the office with you after the manor.’

  She chewed on some of the duck in ginger and gralula sauce, giving him a disapproving glance. ‘Okay. But don’t overdo it.’

  *

  Jenifa turned off Plamondon Avenue and braked sharply. There was a sheriff standing outside the gateway to Xander Manor. A chain had been slung between the two old stone pillars, with a sign hanging in the middle: Crime Scene. No Entry By Unauthorized Persons.

  ‘Screw this,’ Chaing grunted softly. He climbed out of the car, staring disbelievingly ahead.

  ‘Hey, can’t you idiots read—’ the sheriff began. His voice died away as he saw Chaing’s PSR uniform. ‘Uh, sorry, sir.’

  ‘What happened?’ Chaing asked.

  The grand old manor had been reduced to a pile of rubble, with charred timbers sticking out at odd angles. Wisps of smoke continued to rise from the smouldering wood.

  ‘It was a nest, sir,’ the sheriff said. ‘Your people, they got ’em all. Filthy scum.’

  ‘I know we got them. I was here last night. What happened afterwards?’

  The young man shrugged lamely. ‘The Marines said this was a standard decontamination procedure.’

  ‘Marines?’ Jenifa asked as she joined Chaing.

  ‘Yes, they were leaving when I started my shift. Aren’t they great? Tough buggers. Nothing gets past them.’

  Chaing blinked heavily as he gazed at the scorched debris. ‘Nothing at all, it would seem,’ he murmured.

  *

  They hadn’t announced they were coming in, yet word got out as soon as Jenifa drove into the office’s underground car park. News of his arrival raced on ahead of him. It was a building full of spies, after all, Chaing reflected in amusement as people came hurrying out of their offices to line the brick corridors, applauding him approvingly. Colleagues he barely knew smiled wide in welcome, telling him well done, shaking his uninjured hand enthusiastically, offering a few words of sorrow and commiseration about Lurvri. PSR one, Fallers nil. We showed the bastards.

  Yaki was standing outside her office to give him an animated greeting for everyone watching. Jenifa mouthed later and disappeared back down the corridor as Yaki guided him inside.

  ‘Sit,’ the director said, her public good humour fading. ‘Are you okay? I wasn’t expecting you in today.’

  ‘It’s just a plaster cast. Nothing too bad.’

  She grunted and sat behind her desk. Chaing waited in the silence which followed, slightly unnerved. It was her fault she hadn’t been available last night. Is she going to try and bl
ame me? Then Yaki produced a small mirthless smile and turned over her right lapel. She wore a Section Seven pin on the underside, identical to his own.

  ‘Ah,’ Chaing said, and clicked the lock on his briefcase. He took out the pin.

  ‘I thought so,’ Yaki said. ‘It would take something like a breeder to bring Stonal down here.’

  ‘So . . . ?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She pointed to her scar. ‘Brute had claws the size of fingers. It was as big as a crudding horse, too. I was lucky – emptied my entire magazine into the bastard before it died.’

  ‘There were two creatures there last night. One was like a panther, and the other was human-shaped, but huge. I was going to be eaten, then the Warrior Angel arrived.’

  Yaki’s eyebrows rose. ‘You seriously want to keep that part quiet. Even from me. Read your Section Seven briefing.’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘Sorry I wasn’t there. Lapse of protocol. My fault; I was travelling between functions and stopped off with some councillors for a drink. I didn’t phone in a contact number, because nothing ever happens in Opole. And you got lumbered with Stonal because of it.’

  ‘I’ve just been out to the manor. There’s nothing left.’

  ‘That’ll be the Marines. They’re pretty thorough.’

  ‘There could have been more members in that nest. But the Marines have destroyed any evidence. I’ve got nothing to go on.’

  ‘Yes, so you’re going to have to work the case from another angle. If there are any survivors, they’ll sneak into another nest. You had other active cases, didn’t you?’

  Chaing shrugged. ‘A few leads.’

  ‘Then go get them. I won’t be stopping you.’

  ‘There was one thing. Corilla mentioned the Fallers were communicating like Eliters, but the signals were encrypted.’

  ‘I haven’t heard that one before.’

  ‘I’d like to bring in some technicians from the Eliter division. They have receivers that monitor the Eliter frequencies. If they do pick up weird signals, we could triangulate on them.’

  ‘You haven’t ever heard Eliter signals before, have you? I have. If you play them through a speaker, they’re like a long whistle. It’s “digital”, apparently; they turn sound into binary code, which itself is coded. We don’t have the electronics to unravel it all; not even the big computators at Port Ingmar are good enough. As far as the rest of us are concerned, all the Eliter transmissions are encrypted. So what your Eliter friend was saying is that they can’t understand them. Which means the Fallers probably have eggsumed Eliters, and duplicated their macrocellular clusters.’