Deathstalker Destiny Read online

  But then, it had been one hell of a hard landing. The mud-smeared outer hull was split open in several places, and the rear assembly was mostly ripped away. There were signs of extensive fire damage, outside and in, and most of the sensor spikes were gone. Which was precisely why Owen had only sent him to retrieve the stardrive; the only part of the ship likely to have survived intact. Moon thought of the approaching courier ship. Someone was in for a surprise. Moon smiled slightly, and turned his attention back to the crashed ship. It only took a few moments to call up the blueprints, and locate a reasonably wide crack in the outer hull, not too far from the engine section. With a little luck, and a certain amount of brute force, he should be able to reach the stardrive fairly easily. He looked back at Sister Marion.

  “I’ll enter the ship alone. Make sure everyone else keeps their distance unless I call for them. The stardrive is based on poorly understood alien technology, and radiates forces and energies that are highly inimical to human tissues. The drive should be safely contained within its casing, and therefore theoretically safe, but there’s no telling how much the casing may have suffered in the crash.”

  “What if the casing’s cracked, and the drive’s compromised?” said Sister Marion.

  “Prolonged exposure would be quite deadly. In which case ... we will have to abandon it. The jungle can bury it again, deep enough to keep it safe from any risk of exposure. But let us think positively. Owen needs that drive.”

  “If the emanations are that dangerous, you shouldn’t be going in at all,” said Sister Marion sharply.

  “I am a Hadenman,” said Moon. “And I have been through the Madness Maze. That makes me very difficult to kill.”

  “And too bloody cocky for your own good. You watch yourself in there.”

  “Yes, Sister. If anything should go wrong, you and your people are not to come in after me. Whatever the circumstances. Go back and get Owen. Is that clear?”

  “Oh, get on with it. We haven’t got all day.”

  “Yes, Sister.”

  Moon moved slowly across the clearing, treading carefully through the tattered vegetation and thrown-up soil to reach the crashed ship. It had been a beautiful yacht once. Now it was just so much scrap metal, with perhaps one last valuable prize left within. Moon made his way cautiously down the side of the ship, peering in through the wide rents in the outer hull. His internal sensors reported low-level radiation, nothing for him to worry about. The airlock was impassable. He finally reached the wide vent by the engine section. The radiation level jumped alarmingly, but Moon felt sure he could tolerate it for as long as needed. There were other forces at play too, none of which he recognized, but he’d expected that. He accessed his computer again, and then used the disrupter built into his left wrist to perform a little necessary surgery on the interior beyond the gap in the hull. He stuck his head into the gap, and pierced the darkness with his glowing golden eyes. The engine section was fairly close at hand, but still concealed by several layers of shielding. Cutting through them with the disrupter would take hours, and he didn’t think even he could sustain that much radiation contamination without harm. Which only left him one option.

  He concentrated, reaching inward, separating and focusing certain images that moved within him. Ever since he accepted his Maze heritage, and embraced his human nature, new abilities had begun surfacing within him. One result had been his ability to detect and communicate with the Red Brain. Other powers had been manifesting since, and he called on one of the most recent. Something surged up from the back brain, the undermind, filling him until he couldn’t contain it anymore. He glared at the broken hull before him, and it slowly widened, peeling back under the pressure of his gaze. The edges curled in upon themselves, protecting him from the sharp edges, as the gap widened enough to admit his whole body. Moon stepped through the outer hull, and the inner layers split open before him, unable to withstand his Maze-augmented mind.

  Moon headed directly toward the engine compartment, and the ship unfolded like a metal flower before him. He had to stop now and again to deactivate the security measures marked in the blueprints. The stardrive wasn’t supposed to be easy to get at. When he finally reached the dully shining container that kept the stardrive isolated from the rest of the ship, Moon stopped where he was and studied it thoughtfully for some time from what he hoped was a safe distance. It was smaller than he’d expected, barely ten feet long and four wide. Surprisingly small for something so powerful. It seemed intact, but this close his internal sensors were going crazy trying to make sense of the strange energies surrounding the container. Owen had warned him to be extremely cautious. Just putting together the alien-derived drive unleashed forces that destroyed the clones doing the work.

  Moon stared at the stardrive through his glowing Hadenman eyes, and the drive stared right back at him. Moon accessed wavelengths he didn’t normally have much use for, and studied the unusual energies scintillating all around the steel container. None of them were, strictly speaking, radiation, but Moon had no doubt they were probably equally dangerous. The more Moon studied them, the more he thought they might be extradimensional. No one really knew how the alien stardrive did what it did, but it was too massively useful not to be used.

  The energies surrounded rather than radiated from the drive container, as though bursting into this reality from somewhere else, and then disappearing back there again. They didn’t stay long. Perhaps because this reality could only sustain or tolerate them for a short time. Moon realized with a start that he’d spent far too much time studying them, and turned his attention back to the problem of how to get the container safely back to Owen. The six lepers he’d brought to carry the drive wouldn’t be able to tolerate nearly as much of the energies as he could. Still, first things first. Break the container free from its bed, and see how heavy it was. Perhaps he could carry it on his own.

  Careful inspection established that the drive container was only held in place by several large steel bolts screwed into the steel floor. Moon had no tools with him, so he just seized the bolt heads with his powerful fingers and unscrewed them manually. The last bolt was the most reluctant, and in the end he just ripped it out, stripping the thread as he did. He tossed the bolt to one side, leaned over the drive container, and tried to lift one end. It didn’t budge an inch. Moon tried a firmer grip around the middle, and that was when it all went horribly wrong.

  The drive was impossibly heavy, much heavier than its size suggested. It was like trying to pick up a mountain. Moon braced himself, and called on all his Maze-given strength. His back creaked, and his arms felt as though they were being pulled out of their reinforced sockets. The container shifted slowly, ponderously. Moon strained against the impossible weight, sweat running down his impassive face. The drive began to rise from the floor, and the energies surrounding it went mad. They flared up, brilliant and blinding, and Moon flinched back despite himself. His foot slipped on the smooth metal floor, and for a split second he lost his balance. And that was all it took. The drive container rolled toward Moon with all the inevitability of an avalanche, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The container slammed against him, knocked him off his feet, and then rolled up his legs, pinning him in place. Moon’s mouth stretched wide at the pain. It felt like the whole world was resting on his legs. He beat at the steel container with his fists, but couldn’t budge it. He was trapped. Moon let out a howl of sheer frustration.

  He clamped down on his emotions, and was once again the cold logical Hadenman. He had to think of a way out of this. There was always a way, if you thought hard enough. The container was too heavy for him to move with his hands alone; perhaps leverage would help. Owen had once said Give me a big enough lever, and I’ll beat the bloody problem into submission. Moon looked around him for a suitable lever, but there was nothing in reach, and he couldn’t move an inch. He’d already lost all feeling in his legs, and he thought he could hear the muffled sounds of his leg bones cracking under the un
bearable pressure. There had to be a way ...

  He heard sounds to one side, and looked round to see Sister Marion making her way carefully through the passage he’d made earlier. She stopped to pull free part of her robe that had caught on a sharp edge, and Moon called out to her urgently.

  “Don’t come any closer, Sister! Turn around and go back. There’s nothing you can do. It’s not safe for anything human in here!”

  “I heard you cry out,” said Sister Marion calmly, moving forward again. “Thought you might have got yourself into some trouble.”

  “I’m trapped here. The stardrive is much heavier than it appears. I am a Maze-adapted Hadenman, and even I am unable to move it.”

  Sister Marion stopped and considered this. “Should we send for the Deathstalker?”

  “I don’t think I could survive the time it would take,” said Moon. “The drive’s energies are even more dangerous than we expected.”

  “Then you really do need my help,” said the Sister, moving forward again to join him. She took off her tall hat in the confined space and placed it carefully to one side before leaning over to study the drive casing, and how it was holding Moon in place. She was careful not to touch anything. “Hmmm,” she said finally. “Maybe we could work up some kind of hoist, or winch, and lift the thing off you.”

  “I fear it’s too heavy for anything you could construct,” said Moon. “I believe most of its mass may be extradimensional in nature. Please, Sister. You must leave this ship immediately. There are forces here that will kill you.”

  “I can’t leave you like this,” said Sister Marion flatly. “Besides, I’ve got an idea. I brought some explosives with me, just in case. They’re all shaped charges. If I set them on the underside of the casing, they should blow it right off you. Don’t know what the blast will do to your legs, but I’ve seen you Maze people heal impossible damage. You want to try it?”

  Moon considered the matter coldly. He was fairly sure he would survive the blast in some form, and he didn’t have any other ideas. He just hoped Owen appreciated what it cost to get him his drive. “Go ahead,” he said finally. “But be sure to allow sufficient time for you to reach a safe distance.”

  “Teach your grandmother to suck eggs,” said Sister Marion, which baffled Moon somewhat. He took the explosive charges from her as she dug them out of her voluminous pockets, and together they applied the charges to the underside of the drive container, setting the timers for a five-minute delay. Sister Marion took to shaking her head, as though bothered by something, and her concentration slipped more than once. Finally she stopped and leaned on the drive casing, one hand at her forehead.

  “Lights,” she said thickly. “There are lights in my head. And a sound ...”

  “The ship’s energies are affecting you,” said Moon. “Give me the last of the charges, and you get out of here. Quickly. While you still can.”

  Sister Marion shook her head angrily, and her eyes snapped back into focus. “Almost finished. Just a few more ... Oh hell. The timers. Something’s happened to the timers!”

  Moon realized what had happened and threw up his arms to protect his face, as all the charges went off at once, their timers corrupted by the drive’s energies. The combined blast lifted the drive off Moon’s legs and slammed him back against the wall behind him. He could feel things tear and break within him. The explosion picked up Sister Marion and threw her all the way back down the metal passage and out of the ship, like a rag doll in a hurricane. She didn’t even have time to cry out. The drive slowly began to roll back toward Moon. His lower half was completely numb and useless, but he used his arms to pull himself along the floor and out of the way. He kept going, dragging himself slowly along the metal passage, leaving a thick trail of blood behind his shattered legs. Internal sensors were bombarding him with damage reports, but since none of them were immediately vital, he ignored them as he ignored the pain, concentrating only on getting outside, so he could see what had happened to Sister Marion.

  Outside the ship, the lepers were gathered around a tattered bloody object. Moon crawled out of the rent in the outer hull, and dropped to the clearing floor. Two of the lepers came over to him, and he asked them to bring him to whatever was left of Sister Marion. She was still alive, but it only took one look for Moon to know she wouldn’t last long. Her broken arms and legs were barely attached to her body, and she was breathing harshly, every inhalation an effort. Moon had the two lepers set him down beside her. She rolled her eyes to look at him. For the first time since he’d known her, she looked small and fragile and very human.

  “I’m sorry, Sister,” said Moon. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t feel guilty, my son. I was dying anyway. Better this way than what I had waiting for me.”

  “Lie still. I’ll send the others for help.”

  “I’d be dead long before they got back. You’re supposed to have been there, Tobias. What’s it like; being dead?”

  “Restful.”

  “Bugger,” said Sister Marion. “I’ll hate it.”

  She stopped breathing, and as simply as that it was all over. No last death rattles or convulsions, no dramatics. Just one brave soul going to meet her Maker, probably to ask him some pointed questions. Moon was surprised to find himself crying, the tears mixing with the rain running down his face. He finally understood what tears were for, and damned the knowledge. He reached out and closed the sister’s staring eyes.

  The lepers built a stretcher for Moon out of the loose vegetation. He could feel the healing process beginning within him, but he had no way of knowing how long it would take, or how much of his body could be repaired. Rather than think about that, he considered the problem of transporting the stardrive, and finally came up with an answer. He linked with the Red Brain again, and together they used the slow implacable strength of the surrounding jungle to reach inside the crippled ship and drag the drive out inch by inch. The explosion hadn’t even scratched the container. Vegetation spun a thick cocoon around the drive container, and began slowly transporting it back to the Mission, passing the burden on from one mass of plants to the next. The lepers took it in turns to carry Moon’s stretcher.

  They left Sister Marion’s body where it lay.

  Back in the Mission infirmary, Mother Superior Beatrice had her hands full of something disgusting. Saint Bea was dissecting one of the dead Grendels. Owen watched from a respectful distance, and did his best to keep his dinner down where it belonged. He’d never thought of himself as squeamish before, but there was something especially repulsive about the multicolored shapes crammed inside the Grendel’s scarlet silicon armor. The damned thing had been dead two weeks now, and bits of its insides were still twitching. In fact, when Saint Bea had first opened the alien up with a carefully angled disrupter beam, Owen had half expected a length of putrid green innards to leap up out of the gap and strangle her. Instead, the thing just lay where it was and smelled revolting. Owen hoped that whatever it was he’d had for dinner, it didn’t taste as bad coming up as it had going down.

  “Here,” said Saint Bea, offering Owen something far too blue and slippery for its own good. “Hold this for a moment, would you?”

  “Not even for one second,” said Owen firmly. “The good Lord put our insides inside for very good reasons.”

  “The good Lord didn’t have anything to do with creating this,” said Mother Beatrice, dropping the blue bits into a nearby bucket, where they made plaintive sucking noises. “There’s nothing natural about the Grendels. They were gengineered.”

  Owen leaned forward, intrigued despite himself. “Are you sure?”

  “As sure as I can be with the limited tech at my command. I’ve studied the interiors of a dozen partially destroyed Grendels, and this dissection just confirms what I suspected. The signs are all the same. They’ve got multiple redundancies in all systems, a frighteningly efficient mass/energy ratio basis, and organs from at least half a dozen different and unconnected species, held t
ogether with bioengineered linking materials. This creature didn’t evolve; it was designed. And if I’m reading my instruments correctly, this thing started out as one species, and was then transformed at a later stage into what you see now.”

  Owen frowned, running through what he remembered of the planet Grendel, and the infamous Vaults of the Sleepers. “No wonder we never found any trace of the planet’s original inhabitants. They must have all made themselves over into Sleepers, and then sealed their Vaults behind them. Waiting ... for some enemy to come and find them.” Owen looked at Saint Bea. “What could be so dangerous, so frightening, that a whole sentient species would turn themselves into mindless killing machines?”

  “Can’t be the Hadenmen or Shub,” said Saint Bea, rooting around in the Grendel’s innards with both hands. “The Vaults predated their appearance by centuries. And the insect aliens wouldn’t have lasted five seconds against the Grendels. So who does that leave?”

  “The Recreated?” said Owen.

  “Whoever or whatever they are.” Saint Bea straightened up, withdrawing her dripping hands with a loud sucking noise. She wiped her hands on a cloth, and then dropped that into the bucket with the innards. “I always thought the Grendels were too bad to be true. This ... makes a mockery of God’s creation. They destroyed their own moral sense, their ability to choose between good and evil, purely in the name of survival.”