With a carnivorous smile on her lips, she scrutinized the barely believable numbers flickering before her. “Four times our max speed! The jet has become a snail. That asshole Vassili is going to regret tangling with us!”
Seven systems and almost twenty light years in five days. It was a real achievement. And yet Vassili’s ship was nowhere to be found. The trail left by the Antarian jet and its abrupt end shone on the holographic projections as if to taunt Mallory.
She cut the engine with a thought and a sigh of frustration. The gravity fluctuated momentarily and the Sirgan continued on its trajectory, entering an unknown system.
Annoyed, the pilot put a hand to her face and rubbed her slightly slanted eyes. This couldn’t be right. At the rate she had flown her ship, she should have found him by now. But all she saw, confirmed by the information relayed by the Vohrns’ detectors, was emptiness.
“Nada,” she growled.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Jazz added. “He can’t have vanished! Besides…” The Natural Intelligence paused, lost in intense thought.
Mallory said impatiently, “Besides what?”
“This whole sector makes no sense! A ridiculous star and three giants that are much too far apart. It looks like someone has removed the inner planets. There’s only a thin line of debris in an orbit similar to Venus’ around the sun. Look!”
In front of the pilot, the holograms disappeared, replaced by a model of the system. A blue ball represented the star, accompanied by a caption: Jaris. A name assigned long ago by Earth scientists who would have never imagined that a human being would ever end up in this sector of the Milky Way.
On the other side of the map, three orange spheres that looked a bit like Jupiter hung in a line. Near Jaris, there was a small blinking spot. It turned into an irregular circle when Jazz rotated the projection ninety degrees.
“It looks like an asteroid belt,” Mallory remarked.
She studied the hologram and was struck by a sudden insight. Rolled in a multicolored ball on the copilot’s seat, the jufinol chirped approvingly.
“We’re going to take a closer look at those rocks,” she said, laying her hand on the neural interface.
The Sirgan moved toward the center of the system at moderate speed. It was still too far away to perceive anything with the naked eye when the radar triggered an alarm.
A new 3D image appeared before Mallory’s eyes. She could see the rocks around Jaris briefly, and then Jazz zoomed in on a portion of the belt. Three asteroids several miles in diameter filled the projection. Mallory studied them, noticing areas containing geometric shapes on the irregular surfaces of the stone blocks. Suddenly, the cause for the alarm became visible on the hologram.
Several vessels hung in the space between the huge rocks.
“The Saharj!” she exclaimed. “Crap! And I was convinced that Vassili had nothing to do with them!”
The image changed again to show a close-up of the ships. The pilot saw a strange silhouette: an octagonal form, slightly swollen at the center. The synergetic tube was difficult to make out, and although Mallory tried in vain, she could not tell the front from the back.
She remembered the swarm of Saharj ships near Volda, in the Aldebaran system: an aggregate of identically shaped modules of different sizes. She was looking at one of the vessels that had formed it.
Jazz reached the same conclusion. “One of the ships you saw in the Volda sector, and it’s moving around without its pals! I wondered if they were independent. I guess the answer is yes.”
“I’d rather know how a flock of these things could travel over such long distances so quickly and without being noticed,” Mallory said, astonished.
A voice with a synthetic accent rang out behind her.
“We must leave this system before they detect us and warn Hanosk. This asteroid belt must be their main base. We cannot intervene against so many.”
Silent as only the Vohrn were able to be, Losnuk had had slipped into the cockpit and had been watching the pilot for some time.
While the tattoos on her arms transformed into a tracery of black brambles, Mallory clenched her fists hard enough to whiten her knuckles. To have come so far and to leave Laorcq and Alrine in Vassili’s hands… Frustration tore an angry growl from her throat.
But Losnuk was right: four Vohrn and a cybrid made quite a shock squad, but launching an attack on what appeared to be a genuine space fortress would be suicide.
She hesitated before making a last attempt. “We could hide at the edge of the system and try to board one of their ships,” she suggested. “Once we take it over, we could use it to slip into the base and…”
Her voice died away. The idea had so many flaws that it wasn’t even worth the trouble considering it.
Her stomach in knots, she tried to focus on what would happen next. Her companions were going to have to hold on a little longer, until she could return with the Urkein’Naak as reinforcement.
With this positive thought in mind, she got ready to fly to Aldebaran.
Her hand stopped an inch from the interface.
Through the cockpit’s armored glass, she saw a dark mass blocking the stars. A Saharj ship had appeared from nowhere and now hung before the Sirgan.
“How?” Mallory uttered in amazement.
Her reflexes took over, and she veered sharply and tried to initiate maximum acceleration. Once again, she had to stop. The octagonal spacecraft was still in front of the Sirgan, as if her ship hadn’t moved an inch.
A cold chill ran down the pilot’s back. What kind of technology did their opponents have? She turned to the Vohrn soldier. “Losnuk, it’s time for a suggestion…”
Before he could answer, Jazz spoke. “I have one you’re gonna hate: we surrender! Don’t ask me where they came from, but there are no less than seven of those things around us.”
XVIII
CHHH PLO!
VASSILI looked at the Saharj standing before him with almost scientific detachment. The thin alien was taller than he, with thick brown skin stretched over a frame designed to protect its vital organs. It was approaching the human in a disturbing manner. The Saharj’s tall, dark form resembled archaic representations of death, down to the thin muscle that rolled over its bones at the slightest movement. Its red eyes, deeply sunken in their orbits, reflected the ambient light with a sinister glow. It had no nose, and its mouth seemed to only have canines for teeth.
The artificial warrior wore no clothes—a habit arising from its lack of genitalia and shame related to nudity. Instead, a harness bristling with blades hung around its waist.
Although difficult to impress, Vassili had the unpleasant feeling of being scrutinized by a large corpse with the naked body of a wretch devastated by famine.
As much to break himself out of his fascination as for fear of offending his host, the human looked away and declared, “Without my employer’s help, you’d never have been able to take revenge on the Gibrals.”
An almost invisible translator box lay against his larynx, covered with a synthetic layer of skin. Its presence annoyed Vassili more than the toxic atmosphere breathed by the Saharj, which his modified metabolism could easily tolerate.
Having just arrived in the Saharj colony, he had tried without much conviction to rally them to Axaqateq’s cause. He was acting at the behest of the Primordial because it still served his own purposes. When he saw the Saharj base, he had had an epiphany: someone had managed to create this warrior race. With the abilities conferred by the ktol, he could do the same. It would take a long time, and he would have to overcome many obstacles, but the result would be worth the effort. He saw himself leading a force of warriors to annihilate the species he hated most: his own.
The Saharj’s response interrupted his reverie.
“Our designers have betrayed and abandoned us. The Gibrals welcomed and then betrayed us as well. We have learned from the lessons of the past!”
The biogenic creature’s language was built to be like they wer
e: efficient. A series of brief, distinct sounds constituting unambiguous words. When Vassili arrived in the Jaris system, the Saharj had sent him a vocabulary list. His navcom interpreted the words easily and then integrated them into its translation program.
The human listened absently. He didn’t need to convince the Saharj of anything. Being among them was enough. The Saharj had welcomed him as an emissary from the Primordials, and this courtesy visit was timely: once he got to know the place and his hosts’ habits, he’d be able to get into their data network. He was extremely interested in finding out how they had made themselves fertile.
Vassili moved away from the alien with the blazing red eyes and looked around the hall where he stood. Carved into the heart of one of the asteroids orbiting Jaris, its ceiling was almost twenty feet high. The stone was adorned with convolutions etched by multiple layers of minerals. The intricate scrollwork had formed within the magma of a now destroyed world. Water beaded through the limestone, and an orange glow bathed the room in permanent twilight.
This environment, which seemed hostile to all life, contained three large basins, each more than thirty feet in diameter. They were overflowing with plants whose translucent stems were as strong and flexible as steel cables. The tallest brushed the ceiling and were covered with flowers that looked like clusters of iridescent bubbles.
Vassili realized that his interest in the Saharj habitat was becoming obvious, because Shadow-Void—a rough translation of the artificial warrior’s name—declared:
“There are five thousand rooms of this type, in a variety of sizes and shapes. Each holds different plants. We haven’t found any use for them.”
To Vassili, the contrast between the place and its occupants left no room for doubt: the Saharj were squatters… Another species had developed the rocky belt, then disappeared, abandoning the habitats.
Extinct? Exiled? Defeated in battle or eradicated by disease? The human considered the possibilities. The place was built to last, so there was no indication as to when the tragedy had occurred.
The Saharj didn’t get lost in the tangle of such questions. Shadow-Void’s words reinforced this fact.
“Aside from its ability to shelter us, our only interest in this place lies in the portals.”
Intrigued, Vassili followed his host to the end of the hall. An opening large enough for three people to pass abreast appeared before him. At first glance, it seemed to lead to a dark tunnel. With his special abilities, he could see that there was much more to its appearance than met the eye. His enhanced vision saw a fine network of dark lines that emerged from the frame and disappeared into the portal, stretching to infinity.
The Saharj walked towards the door and into the opening. With all his senses on alert, Vassili followed. In a split second, he found himself in the same room he had just left. If not for the light, which was now blue, and the plants with the long stems, which had been replaced by a cluster of giant water lilies with red flowers, he would have thought he had returned to his starting point. Understanding replaced confusion. “We’re in a different asteroid!”
Standing in front of him, Shadow-Void explained, “It took us two generations to master this technology.”
The human was surprised. Why reveal its existence?
As if he had guessed his companion’s thoughts, the Saharj continued, “We have surpassed our designers’ knowledge and have delivered ourselves from our biological limitations. Learning how the ktol works will not take long.”
Disconcerted by the mention of the artifact, Vassili let his instinct decide how to respond. With the muscle strength at his disposal, the artificial soldier couldn’t hurt him. He’d find out later how the Saharj had heard about the ktol.
With impossible speed, he threw a jab at the alien’s torso. He never connected. A force field surrounded Shadow-Void, blocking the move as easily as a window stops a fly in flight.
“We remember the Primordials. They are old and arrogant. We do not need their help. Using the humans you’re transporting for comparison, it will be easy to analyze the effects of the ktol on your body. Then we can apply it to ourselves.”
Above the Sirgan’s steering controls, an order flashed:
APPROACH THE BELT
Under the short sentence was a set of coordinates indicating the exact destination and a blinking symbol: the instructions were accompanied by a file containing the basics of the Saharj language. Mallory reached out and transferred it to her navcom with a gesture. At least they want to be understood, which means they plan to keep us alive.
Losnuk suddenly asked her to follow him. Intrigued, she complied. The alien took her to the cabin he shared with one of his own. From his pack on the floor, he pulled a tiny, egg-shaped object that looked like a large capsule.
“This device is a micro-beacon,” he explained. “It will emit a weak but continuous signal almost indefinitely. It is preset to a frequency monitored by the crew of the Urkein’Naak. We just have to eject it.”
Frowning, Mallory replied, “The Saharj will detect it!”
Losnuk reassured her. The beacon would remain inert as long as the Sirgan was in proximity, and the broadcast would take place at irregular intervals. The message contained a set of coordinates and an identification code encrypted in a sequence that would take less than a millisecond to transmit.
The Earthling grabbed the object and went to the airlock. She initiated the opening cycle but interrupted it almost immediately: a few inches had been enough for the beacon to be sucked out into the vacuum of space.
After resealing the airlock, Mallory and the Vohrn returned to the cockpit. Their only hope of rescue was based on such a tiny thing, she thought as she sat down.
Before resuming their flight, she touched her navcom bracelet. Among the icons that appeared before her eyes, she focused on one shaped like a teddy bear. By the time the Sirgan reached its required destination, Torg would be out of his stasis chamber.
The cybrid joined them just as the asteroids became visible to the naked eye. Mallory gave him a quick rundown of the situation. With Torg’s arrival, the cockpit seemed to have shrunk.
As the only human onboard, light years away from any Earth colony, and trapped by an artificial species designed for war, Mallory felt a shiver run through her. The game they were playing seemed inevitably lost before it began, but her intuition disagreed. If the Saharj left her even the slightest opportunity, then…
Jazz’s voice emerged from the speakers. “Hey, did I see a smile there, just for a microsecond?”
“No, you’re imagining things.”
“More than anything, I think you’re a bad liar who loves to take stupid risks!”
The Sirgan flew to one of the large asteroids, escorted by the octagonal vessels. Mallory and her crew saw a large square opening. Under the Saharjs’ direction, she maneuvered the ship inside and saw that the place could be easily compared to any industrial complex on the most advanced worlds.
After picking a careful path through a sea of equipment for constructing Saharj vessels, Mallory landed the Sirgan in a fairly wide maintenance that could have held a ship five times larger than hers.
Behind them, the passage to the asteroid’s surface was blocked by an energy barrier, and the image of a rock face that seemed to appear from nowhere was superimposed on it. From the outside, no one would be able to detect the facility.
Mallory moved her hands away from the neural interface, shutting off the Sirgan’s synergetic group. The noise from engine became muffled and gradually faded. A heavy silence fell on the transport ship.
Losnuk approached her and destroyed the comforting theory she had constructed when she received the language file.
“I fear that the Saharj aim to wrest information from us before they kill us and seize your ship.”
Mallory sighed. “I love working with you. You always know just what to say to cheer me up.”
“Even if our ‘hosts’ don’t kill us, the air will,” Jazz added in
a mournful voice. “The atmosphere slowly filling this hollow rock is noxious to humans.”
“How bad?” asked Mallory.
“You’ll need a face mask and an injection of netropine.”
“What about Squish? And Torg?”
“Oh. Them. Don’t worry: the hairy worm isn’t at risk and neither is your gorilla.”
Nestled on the copilot’s seat, the jufinol agreed with wave of soothing thought.
Without missing a beat, Mallory slipped between the cybrid and the Vohrn and headed to the cabin that housed the onboard automed. She programmed the medical robot to administer the injection in question and, once this was taken care of, searched the tiny infirmary for a respirator.
“Captain?”
Mallory turned. Losnuk stood in the doorway. His long-fingered hand stretched towards her, and he said, “Try this.”
The Earth woman approached and looked at the object held out by the Vohrn. With a characteristic biological appearance, the technology vaguely resembled a speckled shell. She took it skeptically and discovered that the hollow surface was adhesive. About to decline the offer, she remembered that the equipment stored aboard the Sirgan was several years old. “Okay,” she capitulated, shrugging. “I’ll walk around with a big clam on my face: it’ll be sexy.”
She lifted the shell and placed it over her mouth and the bottom of her nose. Taking her by surprise, the object behaved like a plunger, and she thought she was going to choke. After what seemed like endless seconds, air finally began flowing through the filter.
“Well, it’s not so bad, actually,” she said in a voice that sounded strange through the mask.
“Sounds like you’re talking through a pipe!” the Natural Intelligence laughed.
Mallory was going to shoot back a heartfelt retort, but Jazz’s tone became more serious.
“The Saharj are here. They’re getting ready to cut through the airlock with something that looks like a construction laser.”
At this, the pilot sped back to the cockpit where a video projection showed her the aliens forcing their way onto her ship.
Aldebaran Divided Page 18